Beltane Bride
by Phoenix S. Midnight
Summary: Sarah never forgot the Labyrinth, or its seductively dark King Jareth. Now as a college student she hopes to recapture that essence and in doing so is invited to a traditional Beltane festival where she enters the Dance of the Night King, and is chosen to be his Bride. The clock begins to tick as the Night King will only have a year and a day to prove his love to his Champion.
1. Shut In Learning Nothing

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

"Come _on,_ Sarah! We've been here for weeks now and you haven't come out with us once!" Katrice, a pleasantly plain girl with a bright smile, nearly whined at her roommate. "It's Beltane, and you flat out _refused_ to go out with Tagh and I to the Imbolc festivities."

"I am busy, Katrice." The girl Sarah replied to her friend as she poured over the books in front of her. Many of them were old and faded or fading. "I have to study."

"Study for what? You could have written your thesis on Celtic myths, traditions, and bloodlines without even _coming_ here. And now that you _are_ here you're refusing to even enjoy it!" Katrice pouted.

"Oh, like you are you mean?" A smooth and seductive voice whispered in the young girl's ear, which caused her to jump and screech. "So sensitive, my little Kat."

"Murtagh you jerk!" Katrice turned and gently smacked the man who had snuck up on her. "How did you even get in here without me hearing you?"

The man's eyebrows shot up in amusement. The girl in front of him was astonishingly amazing, with her soft curves and even softer eyes. Her red-brown hair was pulled up with pins and curls but it did nothing other than to make her look more innocent than he already knew she was.

"Sorry, milady. I will endeavor not to cause you such distress." Murtagh replied with a smile as he brought the girl's hand to his lips and gave it a single, soft, kiss.

"Can you two not be so mushy in front of me?" Sarah cut in. Her voice barely masked her bitterness. _But why am I bitter?_ "I really am trying to study."

Murtagh looked over his love's shoulder and set his eyes on the ever elusive Sarah for the first time. He nearly dropped his jaw to the floor when we looked upon her face. _The champion!_ His face lit up with a rakish grin. _This is too good._

"Now Sarah, judging from the paleness of your beautiful," That word earned him a light smack from Katrice. "skin I can tell you haven't set foot one outside this apartment for some time. Am I right?"

Sarah sighed and thought about it. When exactly _was_ the last time she had left this apartment? She hadn't needed the library recently, and she had interviewed that nice old man around a week and a half ago. Katrice had done the shopping… When had she left last?

Sarah knew full well the answer. She hadn't left the apartment since her interview with O'Connor. The gentle old man had given her much information on local lore and folk tales. He had spoken of many things that had enraptured Sarah and she had nearly two whole notebooks of information from her short time with him.

"About two weeks." Came the short reply.

"That's it! Katrice, please my love, go pack a bag for Sarah." Katrice nodded and gave Murtagh a kiss before she walked past him to fulfill his request. "Sarah, I must insist you come with us. Is your thesis not on my heritage?" Sarah nodded to him. "Well, how can you possibly expect to write about it _correctly_ and give it the justice it deserves unless you _experience_ it?"

Sarah contemplated this idea for a moment as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Murtagh watched her and waited, he really didn't want to have to expend energy to plant the suggestion further into the girl's mind so he dreadfully hoped she would see some sort of mortal reason in his words. He wasn't entirely sure as what he knew of this woman she was a firebrand.

"I suppose you're right. But I cannot be gone too long, I have more interviews next week and a few trips to a few sacred places." Murtagh's smile grew and he nodded. "I am sure a day out of the house will do me some good. And you are right, how can I claim to have studied the culture if I continuously ignore invitations to experience it?"

"Quite right, Sarah." Murtahg laughed. _And experience it you shall, Champion. Experience it you shall._

* * *

Far away, in another world, a blond man looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was as wild as it had always been. His skin was still perfect, his ever changing royal marks a dark midnight blue and silver to match the jacket he wore over a bright shirt. His trousers were tight, black, and helped him appear taller than he actually was. The boots that came to his knees helped as well, with the little bit of heel they had.

Not that Jareth, King of the Goblins, needed to appear taller. He would already tower over the mortals, should he deign to visit them on their Beltane celebrations.

 _Brother?_ A voice resounded in his head and without. The fact that this voice was soft and had no body to accompany it let Jareth know his brother was speaking to him from the Mortal realms.

"Yes, Murtagh?" Jareth replied calmly as he turned to survey his chambers. He still had to finish his _offering_ to the mortals before the celebrations began. What was a day in the mortal world would feel like moments to him, as it always had to any immortal.

 _Especially since_ _ **she**_ _left him._

 _Are you going to be watching the hills tomorrow?_ Murtagh's voice was mischievous. Jareth instantly knew his brother was hiding something, yet he could not seek it from here.

"I always do, brother."

 _Good. The mortals seem to be especially interesting this year, brother mine. And I would hate for you to miss what could be a rather_ _ **changing**_ _Beltane festival._ And with that last thought Jareth felt the tinge of his brother's magic fade away. Murtagh rarely actually came to the Kingdom to speak with him, so he was quite used to the feeling of his brother's magic.

"Interesting Beltane? Those poor mortals." Jareth's smile was wicked as he turned to the form that stood in the middle of the room. It had the shape of a woman, although no arms or legs. Beside it lay an array of cloth from silks to wools to cottons. He refused, like many Fae, to stoop to using the fake chemically made cloth from Above. He would stick, as always, to the natural cloth for his _gift._

The Goblin King began to juggle crystals that he pulled from the air. The cloth rose from the table and began to drape itself on the form. Jareth closed his eyes and thought deeply, his inspiration being a very particular mortal female.

"Let us begin."


	2. An Educational Drive

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

Sarah, Katrice, and Murtagh were piled into the car less than an hour later. Sarah was unsure what had been packed for her so she desperately hoped that Katrice had been nice enough _not_ to pack anything that would send the wrong messages to people at this… gathering.

"So where shall we be staying tonight, as I thought Beltane wasn't until tomorrow?" Sarah was admittedly very curious and as all three of them could sit in the back seat, Murtagh had a driver apparently, she wanted to know more.

"Traditionally the festivals Imbolc, Beltane, Samhain, and Yule begin at sundown. Ergo, technically, Beltane begins tonight when the sun sets. Which is when the home fires will be put out and the great bonfires lit on the hills."

"They still have home fires?" Sarah asked, rather perplexed. "I assumed that even out where you're taking us there was more than fire for heat."

"It's an option, admittedly, but most true _believers_ still live as best they can in the old ways."

"What do you me-" Sarah was interrupted by Katrice.

"So what do they do at Beltane?" Katrice was bubbling and excited. She had gone to Imbolc and had been fascinated and was very eager for her next experience with Murtagh. Sarah glared lightly at Katrice, not really annoyed. She hadn't missed Murtagh saying the word 'believers' in the way he did. Believers in what? What was he hiding behind what Sarah could obviously see was a smirk.

"Well, like at Imbolc, there will be fires and festivities. The best cattle of the farmers around will have been rounded up earlier in the day and will be respectfully asked to give a sacrifice for the fertility of the herds."

"They sacrifice _animals?!_ " Katrice shrieked.

"Let me finish before you hurt my ears, dear." Murtagh rolled his eyes a little. His little mortal love was sometimes so sensitive to things. She had a strong heart, though, and was the most beautiful creature he'd ever beheld.

"Okay. But you have one chance to convince me to even _go_ now."

"You'll go, dear, I know you'll go." Murtagh smiled wider than normal. Sarah noticed something about his teeth she hadn't before- his canine teeth were pointed slightly. Not much, but it was there. She looked at him again and began to see features that seemed so familiar, but she must be dreaming them up.

 _He looks like Jareth, but with black hair._

"As I was saying, the cattle will have been asked to give a sacrifice for the fertility of the herd. Which merely means they will have been gently cut and blood will have been collected from them. That blood will have been allowed to dry and it will be offered to the fires. This is to ensure the fertility in the herds, as I have said."

"Why only the herds?" Sarah found herself interrupting Murtagh on accident. "I thought the land and the people would need something like this as well, right?"

"Oh there is. The lands are offered using the last of the harvest that has specifically been saved for this. Some families also use specific cakes or a porridge for this instead of a renewal offering of old grain." Murtagh's smile became wicked. "And as far as the _people_ there are two different traditions that are followed in most families and bloodlines."

"What are they?" Katrice was hanging on every word, which made Murtagh happy. However, Sarah was just as interested- and he wasn't entirely sure that it was all about her research paper. She seemed genuinely interested, invested even. Could it be possible that the Champion had not forgotten her trip Underground? Could she still remember his brother?"

"The first one is a sacrifice, of sorts." Murtagh held his hand up to stop Katrice from interrupting him again. "There are cake pieces, or marked stones, given out to the willing participants. Usually these are only men, although married women with their husband's consent or widows can join in the fun. The pieces are given out and one of them will have a special marking, and the person with that particular stone or cake piece becomes the sacrifice. They are then made to jump the fire 3 times, to signify the sacrifice, and are not spoken to the rest of the night. However, they are treated with the upmost respect therein until the next Beltane, having been the sacrifice of the year."

"Wow, that sounds so scary!" Katrice giggled, she looked at Sarah. "Doesn't that sound scary?"

"Very." Sarah's response was clipped and short, but Katrice seemed to not notice at all. She looked from her friend to Murtagh. "What is the second sacrifice?"

"Ah, that." Murtagh laughed, it reminded Sarah very much of Jareth. "It is called the Dance of the Night King, and should the dance go _well_ the woman who is chosen becomes the Bride of the Night King." Murtagh waited to see if the women had questions, sensing none he continued. "Willing maidens, women who have known no man's touch intimately, are gathered. If they are willing to participate in the Dance with the possibility of becoming the Bride they are asked to drink from the Chalice- which changes from family to family as there is no set Chalice."

"Chalice?" Katrice was confused. Sarah whispered the word 'cup' into her ear and she nodded with an, "oh."

"In the Chalice will be the Wine of Dreams. A drink that is said to taste differently to every maiden who drinks of it. After drinking the Wine they are, according to legend, opened to the magic of the Night King. The Night King visits all the Maidens who have given of themselves to him. It is said he comes to every fire on the hills and dances with his Maidens. And should a Maiden meet his requirements, or pass his tests, the Night King will choose her for his Bride. In doing so the Dance ends and the handfasting rites begin. The Night King and his Maiden will be brought together in his realm for a year and a day, and in that time if he cannot _claim_ her then the magic ends and the Maiden is freed. However, once a Maiden is chosen and taken to the Night King's realm she can never leave it- especially if she has eaten of the fruit in his gardens; for his real does not give up what it has claimed and to eat of the Night King's fruit is to seal your soul to his land."

"Wow," Katrice said quietly, she looked like a school girl, so innocent and trusting. Murtagh was waiting to see what she would say once she turned to Sarah. "Isn't that amazing sounding? Too bad I can't join in the Dance…"

"Kat, too much information." Sarah groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. There was a fire behind her eyes as she looked at Murtagh.

"Does the Night King have any other names?"

"Well there are quite a few names for the Night King depending on where in the homelands you are and how well you know your Gaelic. However, in English, he has one more name."

"What is it?"

"I can't remember it at present, but we have an hour for me to remember so please let me think. I will have to translate it- I do apologize Sarah. I wasn't expecting you to be so _curious._ "

"Never mind the name. What does legend say his fruit is?"

"It depends on the Night King, Sarah. In olden lore it says the fruit was a rare pomegranate, in another more recent tale it talks of apples."

 _I wonder if it has ever been peaches?_ Sarah found herself wondering as the trip continued. She looked at Murtagh who was watching her very closely. Sarah wasn't entirely sure she liked the way he was assessing her, but she decided to take the obvious bait and ask what was on his mind.

"Is there something I can do for you, Murtagh?"

"Yes, actually, I have a question for you if you don't mind."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she looked at the man. "Yes?"

"Will you be joining the Dance, since you're a Maiden?"

"What?" Sarah was incredulous as she stared at the ballsy Murtagh. He was smirking, as was Katrice. Sarah glared at her friend for a moment as she knew it had to have been Kat to tell Murtagh that she had never 'known a man.' "Does it matter if I join or not?"

"I was just wondering since you had your paper and all. It seems like a good idea to enjoy _all_ of what my culture has to offer." Murtagh was being as charming as he could, hoping that he wouldn't have to resort to his magic. He needed Sarah to join the Dance- and it didn't really matter if she did it knowingly or not.

Sarah considered this for a moment and then squared her jaw. She would _not_ let Murtagh and Katrice get at her. "I may."


	3. A Brooch on a Dress

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

The girls had instantly gone up to the rooms in the lodge once the car had dropped them off. Murtagh was glad of it for it gave him a moment to collect his wits. He needed Sarah to join in the dance, as it would be wholly amusing to see his brother's face when he realizes that, unwittingly or not, his Champion has returned to him.

However, there was a _much_ more pressing need for him to get Sarah in the Dance. The Wine of Dreams would reopen her bond with the Undergound, which was something that she was going to need very soon. Murtagh had always suspected his brother of giving Sarah fruit from his garden although he had no proof. If she had eaten of the fruit she would be bound to the Labyrinth, bound to a land she was disconnected from. The magic of the Labyrinth would begin to seep into Sarah soon as his lovely Kat had informed him that her 21st birthday was upcoming. She would be a woman for all intents and purposes Below- which would mean that the Labyrinth would attempt to seal the bond that was made, if there was one.

And Sarah's life was _not_ a thing Murtagh was willing to risk. Not if her life also meant the life of his brother and the Night Kingdom.

Sundown was approaching fast enough, and the believers here had never lost their faith to the old ways. They still believed in the Tuatha Dé Danann, in the Old Gods, in the Fae. They still believed in _him._ Glenmalure had not changed in the years, though the buildings had been modernized and the people had changed with the times in a few ways.

This place still belonged to the Fae, however, and he could walk freely here after sundown. He would wait, though, bide his time. He couldn't risk Sarah becoming upset and running from the festivities. It was obvious that she was already on edge. He would have to tread that edge as carefully as he possibly could. If she figured it out before the Dance began Murtagh would have to resort to less pleasant means of getting her to cooperate.

* * *

Upstairs, in the spare room Murtagh seemed to have already magically had, Sarah and Katrice were unpacking and preparing for the night's festivities. The rest of the drive had been uneventful and truth be told both girls had slept through most of it. They both felt refreshed and ready for the night to begin. Sarah winced as she pulled out the clothes that Katrice had packed for her.

"Kat, what the hell?!" Sarah yelled as she pulled out a few of her more medieval styled dresses. "Why did you pack me gowns when we have to hike to the festival?!"

"Oh, we won't be hiking. Tagh has, ahem, acquired horses for us to ride. You'll just have to ride side saddle with the dress on."

"I've never ridden side saddle, I'll fall off!"

"Don't worry, he'll figure that out. You'll be fine." Kat said as she too pulled out dresses from her luggage. They would only be here for two days at most but her loving Tagh had told her to pack more skirts than trousers, as he had put it.

Sarah sighed and looked at the dresses she was holding up. One was a dark shade of blue, and it was the least modest of all of them. The back on it was low and the front gaped open nearly to her navel with only a brooch above her breasts to hold it together. Sarah dearly loved this dress because of the shade of blue it was, because it reminded her of her dance with another King.

 _Another King?_ Sarah found herself thinking, shaking her head. _As if I am actually going to join the Dance of the Night King!_ She laughed at herself and pulled out the other two options. One was a white dress and it was instantly a no, as she wasn't going to be wearing a white dress in the hills during a fire festival. Her third option was a pale green dress that she wasn't fond of, and Kat knew it. They had bought it when they first arrived here as a nice summer dress. The fabric was thin and it was chilly, so it looked like Sarah was going to have to wear the white dress after all.

A hand reached around her and picked up the blue gown, Sarah jumped with fright at the hot breath on her back. It was only Murtagh, but Sarah whipped around ready to murder him for sneaking up on her as if she was his girlfriend.

"Murtagh. If you _ever_ do that again I will personally remove what makes you a man and force feed it to you." She glared a deep glare, an angry glare, at the man who stood so cockily before her. "And if you _think_ I'm kidding then please try me."

"Oh, I don't think you're kidding. I'm just wondering as to why you have such an unmaidenly dress for the festival?"

"I'm not wearing that one," Sarah turned back to the clothes and picked up the white one. "I am wearing this one."

"Oh no you're not." Murtagh laughed. "Not unless you intend to show your intentions to everyone here that you are unwed, untouched, and seeking."

"What?" Sarah gaped at him, unbelieving.

"White on Beltane, around here, would mean that you are seeking to be handfasted and loved. You would be wearing a literal billboard of your intentions. And the green dress is much too thin for the festival, you will be cold."

"Even this will make me cold, Murtagh. It's missing nearly the _entire_ back and most of the _front_ too!" Sarah narrowed her eyes at the man again. "How am I supposed to fucking not _freeze_ in this?!"

"Wow, Sarah, it's been a while since I've heard _you_ swear!" Kat said as she walked out of the bathroom, or closet as Sarah couldn't tell, with her gown on. It was a beautiful honey shade, it matched her almost golden eyes well.

"I have a cloak you could wear, milady." Murtagh gave another rakish wide smile. He had a cloak, yes. This dress had been specifically put in Sarah's luggage at his request, although he never really asked it. "It would keep you warm, and relatively covered. Will that work?"

Sarah heaved a sigh. Life, as usual, was being rather unfair. It was a lesson she had learned well Underground, one that she had taken with her through the last few years.

"Fine."

* * *

Kat and Murtagh left Sarah to it as she got herself into the dress. It was relatively easy to slip on, however the act of picking a brooch for the front is what took up most of her time. She had so many, and loved them all.

 _Which one would be good for Beltane?_

Sarah mulled it over and decided to pick up one that she had actually had made for her. Her father and step-mother had taken one of her drawings, a design she had repeated since she returned Above, and used it. It was a chevron that curved downward, pointed at the top and widening into the curve. In the middle was a coin-like design, copper inset onto the silver. On the copper was a waving infinity symbol.

Her father had been terrified it was a tattoo idea so he happily had a decently sized pin made of it. Sarah almost laughed when she received it, she had never even intended to continue drawing it but the piece… _his necklace_ … was always there.

After placing the brooch on the fabric and closing it so the dress would remain closed she turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

Kat had done Sarah's hair up carefully, it was pulled and pinned behind her head with a light curl to it. Sarah was also wearing what looked like a crown in her hair, it was made of blue and silver jewels. Kat let her borrow it for the night since apparently Murtagh had given it to her and it didn't look good in Kat's hair. It shined in Sarah's black hair, however.

Sarah's eyes travelled down to her neck, adorned with a necklace to match the hair jewels, and even further. She stopped and looked at the brooch as it rest squarely between and just above her breasts. They had filled out since she was a teen, apparently she was a late bloomer as her father had so delicately put it. Every breath Sarah took brought her breasts forward and made the more prominent- Sarah found herself wishing that Murtagh's cloak would be big enough to at least help cover them a little. Her eyes travelled down to her hips and she had to smile. She had been told by one of the older women that she had interviewed that her hips were 'good birthing hips,' and that they would 'get her into trouble one day.' Sarah had laughed at the thought.

Now she realized the woman had been right. In this dress, here and now, Sarah wasn't barely an adult playing pretend. She was a woman, whole and true. And that was a dangerous thing to be on Beltane apparently.

Had Kat not been standing directly next to him when Sarah emerged from the room Murtagh would have gasped. The sight of Sarah dressed as she was had taken him aback. Jareth would be salivating over his Champion- hopefully his idiot of a brother was actually watching the fires tonight or this would be all for naught.

He held the cloak out, a beautiful midnight blue, to Sarah. It matched the dress nicely and Sarah didn't even think to ask how when she felt how soft and luxurious the cloth was. She smiled at Murtagh and Kat and put it around her shoulders. The clasp on the cloak was right at her neck, but something underneath it caught Murtagh's eye.

 _Jareth's Crest!_ Murtagh almost gaped open mouthed at the piece. It was human made but beautifully so. Murtagh smiled inwardly. No mortal should have even been able to remember the crest, let alone enough to have it made for them. Sarah _must_ have been tied to the Labyrinth when she was a Runner. Whether it's by food or the Labyrinth's choosing remained to be seen.

"Ready, my beautiful ladies?" Murtagh reached both of his arms out. "Dark is coming and we have a ride up into the hills for this adventure."

Kat immediately took Murtagh's arm, Sarah hesitated before smiling and taking the other.

"Let's go." Sarah said with a smile, Kat nodding happily.

"As the Lady commands." Murtagh nodded his head and they trio walked out of the Lodge into the street where two beautiful horses waited. Neither had a saddle- something that perplexed Sarah.

"I've never ridden without a saddle, Murtagh." Kat said nervously. "I am worried I'm going to fall. And what about Sarah?"

"I can ride no saddle, Kat. I'll be alright." Sarah smiled and walked up to the fully black horse. He was huge, almost too big to be real. He was gentle, though, and nudged Sarah's hand when she held it out to his nose. "I like him, may I?"

Murtagh let go of Kat's arm and walked forward. Leaning down he braced his hands for Sarah to use as a step up. The girl gracefully sat astride the horse and pat his neck. She hitched her skirt high, above her knees, so that she could sit as she was comfortable. Murtagh blushed at seeing the thigh of the Champion in such an intimate way. His brother would kill him if he found out.

"Thank you, Tagh." Sarah smiled. Murtagh nodded and helped Kat onto the other, brown and white, horse who stood waiting. Kat was nervous and it showed but the horse stayed calm under Murtagh's hand.

"Let's go." Murtagh said as he gently nudged his horse. Sarah did the same and the horse moved of its own accord. The animal seemed to know the destination and walked calmly to it. Sarah shook her head and laughed at her folly, of course the horse would know- this was its home.


	4. The Siren Song of the Sea King

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

 **Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the confidence in this story! This has been knocking around in my mind for a while and I had to take a break from rewriting my Protector of the Small fic. My Star Wars fic has 3 chapters in Beta currently so hopefully they will be out soon!**

 **Just so people know (this is due to a few PMs I have received since this story was published): YES it will earn it's M rating, in time. This IS a slow burn story, even with the feelings in place this is a SLOW BURN story. Also, my chapter sizes will usually range from 1500-2500 words. Sometimes more very few times less. I do apologize if that seems to be to long, but I don't like rushing information.**

 **Anyway, to my lovely reviewers, please see below the story!**

* * *

Jareth sat in his empty throne room. It was freshly cleaned and looked almost new. His throne had been polished and new cushions had been set upon it. He sat and waited. The larger crystal in front of him showed the time in the realm Above, and it was nearing the time for the fires to be lit. The Dance would begin once the other offerings were made. And, as usual for the last millennia, it would go all night. Jareth did not want some paltry girl willing to give herself up just because her family or tradition called for it. He wanted a woman with fire in her soul, a light to his darkness.

 _He wanted Sarah._

But that was never to be, so he would bide his time and wait. Eventually there would be a woman he could settle on. He would never love this woman, but he would have a queen. And that is what would matter to the Underground.

The moments ticked by as Jareth waited.

* * *

The horses stopped just shy of where people had begun to gather. Sarah was surprised at the amount of people there were; she hadn't expected the small villages she passed to have enough people to fill the hillside, yet there was.

A nudge on her leg shocked Sarah out of her thoughts and she looked down to see Murtagh holding out his hand with a devilish smile on his face. He was waiting to help her down. _Why does he look so much like the Goblin King?_

"So, have you thought more about joining the Dance? Because if you plan on it we will have to go and submit you to the elders."

Sarah worried her lip a little as she shifted on the horse's back and reached for Murtagh's hand. She didn't know what 'submit her' meant but she hoped it wouldn't be anything embarrassing. This dress was bad enough, especially since the cloak wouldn't fully close over her front.

She also knew that sometimes, probably often times, fairy tales and folk lore was mired in reality. That this Night King probably _does_ exist, and that this Dance could actually _be_ with _him_ the **King**. And Sarah, having learned from before opened her mouth gently, a soft and sad smile on her face.

"No, I don't think I will." Murtagh glared for a moment, Sarah wondered why. His eyes seemed to shine, she couldn't look away. Why was he mad? What had she done?

"I'm going to ask again, Sarah," Murtagh's voice was deathly low, a near growl, and he was leaning closer to her. Kat seemed to take no notice of what was going on. In fact, no one seemed to. "Are you going to allow me to escort you to be submitted to the elders so you can Dance?"

Sarah shook her head slightly. _Didn't I just say no?_ She couldn't look away from his eyes. What was wrong with his eyes? _Forget his eyes. What is wrong with me!_ His eyes, they were like pools. She was drowning. _Stop! He's. Not. Human._ Sarah smiled a soft smile, reaching her hand out to his. She was slow, fighting herself the whole way. _Stop!_ Once their hands touched her resistance faltered. She was lost in her own mind, trapped in a maze of her own creation. The conscious part of her was dancing, once again, with the Goblin King. She was with her King once more.

"I would love to." Sarah said through a thick haze, her voice light and breathless. "Lead on, I would love to Dance."

"Good answer." Murtagh smiled as he pulled Sarah from the back of the horse. He turned to Kat and gave her a smile. "I will be right back, my love, I must take Sarah to the elders to be submitted for the Dance."

"Yes dear." Kat smiled dreamily and reached up on her tiptoes to give Murtagh a deep kiss, he responded in kind for a moment before Sarah cleared her throat gently. "Oh! Sorry, Sarah." Kat went bright red and waited by the horses.

Murtagh led Sarah over to a tent on the opposite side of the rather large fire they were building. He ducked into the tent with Sarah and a rather elderly looking woman peered up at them from a ledger she had been writing in.

"Yes?" The woman asked, Murtagh looked at Sarah expectantly. He was waiting to see if she could find the right words. On her own or if he would have to 'help' her again.

"I wish to submit myself, wholly and willingly, to the Dance of the Night King." Sarah said, her eyes dreamy and wide.

The woman stood and walked over to Sarah. She walked around her as if to inspect the girl. Sarah stood there, the dreamy look in her eyes beginning to unsettle Murtagh.

"She won't remember this, Sea King, show yourself." The old woman looked directly at Murtagh and gave a mirthful laugh. "I am old, but not blind."

Murtagh smiled and allowed his glamour to fall away, revealing himself to the woman. His otherworldly features giving way to a wide and devilish smile.

"This one is a maiden, I won't doubt that." The woman looked Sarah over again and beckoned Murtagh to remove the cloak she was wearing. "I knew you to be Fae when I couldn't touch the cloak. Spelled so only one of your kind can remove it, how interesting."

"Call it a protection spell, mortal grandmother." Murtagh did remove the cloak for her however. "I didn't want the males around her to be able to see _too_ much of the girl."

The woman circled her again, looking. "She is a beauty." The woman's eyes came to rest on the brooch, glinting in the light of the candles in the tent. "Now that is an interesting trinket. Did you give that to her as well, to help her in the Dance?"

"No, I did not, grandmother." Murtagh waved a hand to prove there was nothing Fae about the crest on Sarah's dress. "Human make, human origin."

"This one will do. She can join the dance." The woman tottered over to the ledger and looked back at Sarah.

"Maiden, please tell me your name."

"Sarah Williams."

"Your age?"

"20, currently."

"Have you ever known the intimate touch of a man?"

"No."

"Have you ever desired the intimate touch of a man?"

"Yes."

"What man? Was he worthy of your maidenhood?"

"He was not a man; he was a king. My King."

"What King?" The elder woman asked, her eyes narrowing at Murtagh.

"She needn't answer that question, Elder. She has answered all others properly, am I not correct?" Murtagh flashed a wide ethereal smile at the woman. She glared more at him, knowing that he was hiding something behind those words and his smiles.

"True, but a Dancer must submit wholly and under no duress." The woman replied slowly. "I am merely ensuring that this woman is not in this tent against her own wishes or wills."

"She isn't; I can assure you of that." Murtagh turned to the still enraptured Sarah. "What little spell I have put on her is only taking away what inhibitions she may have had. She could not have walked into this tent had she not wished to Dance." Murtagh knew that was a lie, but this mortal would not. And what was one little lie if it meant Jareth could be happy again? The Night King needed his Queen, the Goblins needed their Champion- the Labyrinth and the world of Dreams needed _both_ rulers.

"I'll believe ye this time, Sea King. But ask no favors of me beyond this." The woman replied as she struck Sarah's name onto the ledger of Dancers. The other Ledger, the Bride's Ledger had few names- the last one being almost two millennia ago.

"Very well." Murtagh said as he escorted Sarah out of the tent. They stood by the tents edge and time seemed to slow around them. Sarah shook her head and awoke from the daze, her eyes becoming less dreamy and more hard. "Welcome back Sarah."

"You are not human you lying piece of rat shit!" Sarah literally spat at him, hitting him square in the face. "How _dare_ you take away my will. And I bet this dress was your idea too, otherwise how would you have a cloak to **_match it_**!"

Murtagh slowly wiped the spit off his cheek, his eyes hard and cold. "I am doing you a favor, _mortal._ Best remember that when the Dance is over."

"I. Don't. Want. To. Dance."

"No, you don't." Murtagh gave a wicked smile. "But you will." Sarah couldn't look away from his eyes again, he was tricking her again! She had to fight it, had to.

 _No!_ Yes. Don't fight it, Sarah. You know that you want the magic. The adventure. Why else have you clung so desperately to the Labyrinth and the magic shown to you? _I am not clinging! It is a memory, nothing more!_ Oh, so that explains why you have never allowed another mortal man to touch you? That explains why when you touch yourself you feel unfulfilled, why you can't fathom being with a human man? _I haven't found the one yet._ You did. You **know** you did. Don't fight this, Sarah. It will lead you to your dreams. You can dance with him, forever, in your dreams. _No. No. NO!_

"I can't wait for the dance, Murtagh." Sarah smiled at him, her eyes back to being dreamy and clouded. "When will it begin?"

"Soon, pet. Soon. For now, though, how about you go back astride Cadeyrn? He will keep you safe until the Dance. And you will be able to see the whole festival from there." Murtagh led Sarah back to the horses. He really didn't like having to enchant her- but she had given him no choice. Her free will meant nothing compared to his brother. It was obvious she felt something for his brother but refused to act on it. Why else had she not called him in the last nearly six mortal years?

"Cadeyrn? Is that his name?" Sarah asked lightly as Murtagh loaded her back on the horse. He ensured that this time, under his direction, she sat properly side saddle. "It's a nice name.

"It means Battle King. He is a great war horse. My brother could tell you about him more- for he is not mine. I have… borrowed him." Murtagh smiled and with that left Sarah. He pat the horse on the front flank and smiled to him. "Keep watch Cadeyrn, you are carrying a Dancer."

Cadeyrn whickered. He already knew who was riding him, although she didn't feel right. She felt lost, stolen. What had his Master's brother done to his Champion? Growing restless with the thought Cadeyrn began to walk around slowly. He couldn't break whatever enchantment Murtagh had put on the girl, but, if he weaved enough of his own wild magic he could keep it held until his Master go there. There was no way that his Master would allow this, or at least not allow this to go unpunished.

He began to weave his way through the mortals. Many of them, mostly the younger adults, seemed blind to his presence. Belief or not it took a strong, unshakeable, amount of it to be able to see one of the Night Kingdom's horses; let alone the horse of the Night King himself. Cadeyrn wondered if he should somehow warn his Master of his Champion's whereabouts, but decided against it.

If she was a Dancer, he would find her.

* * *

 **Author's Note, part deux:**

 **LovelyAmberLight: Thank you for being my first reviewer! I do have to agree I am very much in love with the idea of Sarah being a little _smarter_ this time around. Not necessarily a loss of fire or spirit but just a little less naive. I hope you have enjoyed the story thus far and hope to hear from you again!**

 **FireShifter: I am totally a sucker for big black horses too- I actually used to ride a very beautiful black stallion horse as a child. He was more wild than other horses I have had the pleasure of knowing but he had his own spirit, so I felt the need to include that memory in this story. I will be continuing, I promise!**

 **FantasyDreamer06: Thank you for your review, I happen to love slow build as well (it's shockingly visible in a LOT of my writing). I've always kinda been a 'the climb can be more fun than the summit' type of writer and reader so the idea of a slow build and then a decent 1-3 chapter summit and then a relatively relaxing climb down more fun.**

 **TinaLouise88: I am glad you are looking forward for more of the story. I promise that currently (around 35 handwritten chapters and unfinished) that there is PLENTY to come. Some of the chapters are being condensed and rewritten as I type them, but this is most definitely a slow burn story. Probably should go back and warn people...**

 **Sazzle76: I laughed out loud at the Bodice Ripper comment- I hadn't even thought of it when I wrote it. I wanted to incorporate the idea of the Night King without confusing people that Jareth WAS the Night King, it was merely a different title. Hence the Beltane Bride title. I am glad to see you looking forward for more, and I endeavor to please!**


	5. Dance for Your Night King

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

"Welcome all," The woman who had seen to Sarah said in front of the great bonfire. It had not been lit yet, although there were two men who had begun the task. This particular grouping of believers happened to be as traditional as possible about the entire event- they lit the fires using friction. Old fashioned. They followed the same rites and words as their ancestors, passed down now for generations. "Beltane is again upon us, and now we must ask for the fertility of our land, our people, and our animals. Our livelihood depends on the fertility of the herds, our survival on the fertility of the lands, and our future on the fertility of the people."

The two men who had begun to create friction got the sparks lit. They brought the kindling that had caught light to the main fire. They rest it on the edge of more kindling which began to crackle and glow rather quickly. The men then picked up two lit torches from the main fire and took them to two smaller fire piles a bit away from the main pile. Now too far away from those two piles were small paddocks that held some rather nice looking livestock.

Cadeyrn was still weaving through the revelers as they began to mill about more and enjoy the festival. He decided to head towards the animals and livestock. The humans here would soon be driving them through the two smaller fires, in a symbol of fertility. As they did the men would drop specific dried cotton into the fires- the blood of the herds. It was an offering, and a typically pleasing one.

Once the livestock fertility circles were started the cooking would begin over the main fire. This tribe of mortals, or so Cadeyrn could discern, were a group who ate heavily and drank even more during their festivities. The sound of other groups could be heard in a haunting melody through the hills. Other fires could be barely seen in the distance on the hillsides. They would have their own Dancers, as they always did.

Cadeyrn wished that he could break whatever hold the Sea King had on the Champion. Her life force seemed much weaker now than it was before. She must be trapped in a dream, one that she cannot decide about. The Siren Song of the Sea King- it was his best trick. And his hardest to end without his consent.

The Champion was in for a long night unless Cadeyrn's Master could manage to see through the deception and free her of the chains to which she was now tied.

* * *

Murtagh and Kat were resting amongst pillows made from cut grass covered in natural wool cloth. Murtagh was leaning back while Kat lay against his chest and wrapped herself in a way that seemed nearly impossible to be comfortable in. She was feeding him small strips of cooked meat, vegetables, and even fire roasted fruit. He would feed her bites as well; the couple was content in their lounging.

"Tagh, where is Sarah? She is missing the festival." Kat was genuinely worried. She hadn't seen Sarah since Murtagh had taken her to the tent to be seen by the elder. Sarah wasn't usually one for running off. She may have been a spitfire of a girl, Kat knew this well, but Sarah wouldn't have been one to go wandering about on a night like this alone on a darkened hill top.

According to Sarah, as she had told Kat, she was very wary of where she did what anymore. Things aren't always what they seem, and magic required belief. Kat had asked her what she meant and Sarah's only reply had been she 'believed' and that therein lied the danger.

"She is probably off enjoying the whole scene. Remember, I managed to get her to come under the guise of study for her paper. How could she study if she were here next to us eating scraps of delicious food." With that Murtagh placed a small piece of a sweet bread up to Kat's mouth. The girl took it gingerly from his slender fingers. Murtagh took that moment to run his thumb along her lower lip. _Gods she is beautiful._ Murtagh smiled. "We'll see her soon; they will be beginning the Dance before they do the Sacrifice. The Dancers will be around the fire where the sacrifice must jump it. The two go together- sacrificing maidenhood and masculinity."

"But you said that women could be sacrificed?" Kat was confused as she lifted a glass of the best tasting wine she had ever drank to her mouth. "I remember that."

"Only women whose husbands will allow it and widows, love. Women who are no longer Maidens- women who while still fully feminine in grace no longer have that same purity that a Maiden would have."

Kat sat bolt upright in anger. It had only been a week since she had given her 'maidenhood' as Murtagh had called it to him. And here he was essentially telling her that Sarah was better than her because she'd never taken a good dicking. It was upsetting to say the least.

"Well if _Maidens_ are so damn bloody important then I see no need for me to be here!" Kat stood and began to walk off, stopping only long enough to look back at Murtagh for a moment. "I can find my way from here, thank you."

Murtagh let the girl get a few meters out of the firelight before he stood. _Foolishly stubborn, but so beautiful even in anger._ He looked back to where Cadeyrn and Sarah were riding- the horse was bringing her to the tent for the Dance. It was soon time. Everything was going according to the plans he had laid, and now he was no longer needed.

 _I think, safe to say, that I can spare a little time with my little minx._ And with that Murtagh chased after his beautiful mortal into the darkness. He fully intended to ravish her into the grass of the hillside. No one would disturb them- this was a fertility festival so couples copulating was rather typical.

* * *

Cadeyrn knelt to gently allow the woman off of his back. They had reached the tent of the elder and it was time for the girl to get ready for the Dance. Cadeyrn nudged the girl into the tent with his nose and walked off into the darkness. He had a feeling, somewhere, that his Master would have need of him by the time this Dance was over. And the horse was more than willing to do his duties by his Master.

"Alright lassies," The old grandmother stated to the five women in front of her. "Ye all've given yourselves to the Dance. There is a little bit of preparations that need to be made before the Dance can begin. Remember, when you signed yourself you signed a binding contract betwixt yourself and the Night King. If he releases you from it, you are free. If you are chosen as the Bride, you will only be released in a year and a day. Or never, it will depend on what the Night King can do."

The woman walked through the women with a small knife and a wrapping of pure white cloth. An assistant, not much younger than she from looks, followed behind with masks that covered call but the eyes, nose, and mouth of the girls. They seemed magical in nature, as they formed themselves to the face of the woman it became attached to.

"You will present me with your dominant hand, please. I will need them. Once I have gotten a drop of your blood from your hand my daughter here will give you your mask. How you Dance is up to you, there is no rules on clothing beyond the mask. Many Dance naked, some Dance clothed. The Night King takes all who Dance, provided they are Maidens. Are you all ready?"

"Yes, we are ready. We offer ourselves to the Night King for enjoyment as Dancers, we pray that he will be generous enough to make one of us his Bride." The women all said together. The ones who lived in the surrounding villages had been preparing for this moment, however the girl she was wondering about- the offering from the Sea King- even said the lines perfectly. Her eyes were still dreamy and clouded, but she was willing or she would have been unable to utter the words.

The woman walked through the girls and began to carefully prick their dominant hands with the knife. She then held the cloth against the wound until it had soaked in a little. Surprisingly once the cloth was removed it seemed as if there was never a cut at all. One of the girls gasped and gaped when it was her turn, she couldn't stop looking at her hand.

The woman got to Sarah and began the process. She pricked Sarah's finger and began to softly speak.

"Do you, Sarah, agree to this blood pact?" _'Yes.'_ "Will you uphold it to the end, whether your fate is to Dance or to be a chosen Bride?" _'Yes, I will.'_ "Finally, do you without any duress or enchantment agree to leaving the realm of Mortals on this Beltane night to Dance for the Night King?" _'Yes, I will Dance for my King in his Kingdom- I would have it no other way.'_

The girl knew her stuff, as the elder thought, and nodded to her assistant who put the mask on Sarah. Turning to the other four girls she realized that all of them had chosen to Dance only in their underthings- corsets and shifts. They were made of soft and see through silks, and made the girls look delicate in their near nudity. If it wouldn't have been perceived as rude the elder would have shaken her head. The Night King had never once after the first Bride ever chosen a bride who was so willing to bare her body to others. She assumed it was in his distaste.

Another woman appeared in the tent, she was holding a simple but elegant chalice in her hands. The elder turned to her and gave a smile. The Wine of Dreams- a step in the process that could not be ignored. Picking the chalice up from the other woman, the elder took it over to the fire where a small pot of the Wine had been warming. Not enough to boil away the spirits within- but tradition called for the Wine to be warmed and so it was. Turning back to the group of Maidens she held the cup to the first. The girl drank and thanked her in kind. It was passed on to the next, who drank in turn as well. Down the line the cup went until it reached Sarah. Sarah took the chalice in steady hands and brought it to her lips. She sipped the Wine and thanked the elder. _Was that the taste of peaches?_ Sarah shook her head slightly, Murtagh's magic being weakened a little by Sarah's memory of a certain peach. The elder watched her carefully, waiting for the spell to break. But it never did.

"It is time, Maidens. The Dance draws near, we must away to the fire." The elder and her daughter led the way out of the tent. Sarah was the last to leave the tent as she had been the last to be submitted for the Dance. The women took their positions around the fire, close enough to be seen but far enough away whereas they wouldn't get burned even if a decent breeze were to blow coals and embers. The elder then stood on a platform and called for silence. "Listen well, Children!" Her words seemed almost to echo, other fires and festivals were sending their Dancers now- the elder voices carried over the hills and valleys eerily. "The Night King, the granter of wishes and dreams, the High Prince of the Fae above and below- we offer these maidens to you in joyful adoration. May their Dance entertain you on this Beltane, may you find pleasure in their innocence."

The elder than held up the scraps of the cloth, red spots in the little squares. "We send these maidens to you through blood and name, their bodies will remain with us Night King. We offer, they offer, their souls to you on this night for your pleasure." The woman held up the first square of cloth. "Brigid, Dance for your Night King." She dropped the cloth into the fire, it immediately began to smolder and flashed in the flames. Brigid, a young girl barely old enough to even offer herself began to dance in her place. Her body twisted and turned to music only she could hear. "Linette, Dance for your Night King." The woman threw the next square into the flames, it flashed and the girl Linette began her Dance." The elder did this twice more before she reached Sarah's strip of cloth. The woman looked at the young girl who stood before her. She wavered on whether or not to throw a deceitful cloth into the flames to save the girl from whatever fate the Sea King was sending her to. As she began to switch the cloth in her hands a voice appeared in her mind. _I wouldn't do that if I were you._ The voice whispered angrily- the Night King would not be denied the maiden he could sense at the fire. Taking a deep breath, the woman called out a final time. "Sarah, Dance for your Night King." She threw the cloth into the flames and prayed for her soul.

It flashed bright and long, different from the others but not by much. The elder closed her eyes in sadness as she watched the girl, Sarah, begin her Dance.


	6. As the World Falls Down

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

 **For my readers: I put my authors notes (and public responses to reviews) below my stories, so if you are looking for that please look below the belly of the beast!**

* * *

In the mortal realm, in front of the great fire, the Maidens were Dancing. There was now music to behold with the dancers, uilleann pipes were playing a joyful tune amongst flutes, a Bodhrán, and a few hammered dulcimers. There were also singers in the night, solemn and demanding in their words. The festival would continue on in the Above as the Dance would begin and end in the Below. The hills sang and Danced together as the Beltane festival continued on. The elder woman stood by the fire as she looked at Sarah's entranced form.

 _That poor girl._ She felt nearly sick, there was no way that this poor little girl was going to get out of this unscathed. If the Sea King had to entrance and entice the girl into joining the Dance then there was a reason the Sea King wanted her to Dance. _I just hope I haven't made a grave mistake._

The elder began the passing out of the tokens to find the Sacrifice, the next and final real part of the festival. The moon was getting high and the night was nearing the witching hour.

* * *

Down in the Below in a crystal ballroom that Sarah would have recognized had she been cognizant of her surroundings there was a gathering of around twenty-five women. Many of them were younger than their twenties, with the youngest being around sixteen. The women were all in various stages of dress; some were fully nude while others were in traditional underclothes. A few, including Sarah, were fully clothed in dresses. They had come Below as they had _been_ above.

"Such a pity." Jareth said lightly as he descended the staircase to where the women all waited. They were entranced and would not notice him until he wished them to do so. This was the usual way of things during his yearly Dance. The Night King, being the only Fae King who had true ties to the Mortal Realm Above, was required to find a mortal bride. The Dance had been around since the realms were originally separated- and it was a tradition his father had done before him and his heirs _(If I have any)_ will continue after him.

"Welcome, Maidens." Jareth said to the women as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The masks turned to him in a single move, and all curtsied to him in the manner that was befitting his station. "The Dance shall now begin, and I am anxious to dance with all of you." With a wave of his hand faceless copies of himself appeared for the women to Dance with.

He would, following customs, take a turn with all of the women brought before him but had found it was easier to entrance them if they believed they were at least dancing with _him_ even when they were not. The faceless clones were controlled by his own magic, and the magic of his realm, and would create a dream for his Dancers. Heaving a heavy sigh and holding himself back Jareth fixed his open jacket and began his rotation of the women who were already Dancing.

Taking the first woman's hand and waist in his hand he slid into the place of his clone, who stood aside and awaited another order. Jareth allowed himself to slip into the Dream he had given to the woman in front of him.

 _The room was filled with dancers and delights, treats and sounds that this woman found proper. Jareth looked around and could tell immediately that this woman was young, her fantasies were younger even than Sarah's had been when she had run his Labyrinth._

 _"Hello, my lady." Jareth was as soft as he could be. This woman, girl, in his arms was probably no older than sixteen. It was highly likely she was actually the youngest of his Dancers- which made him even wonder if she had truly wanted to Dance with him at all. There had been a time when Dancers were given no choice by their families- they were made to Dance in hopes that the King would take a liking to them and their family would be blessed._

 _The girl looked at him with wide doe-like innocent eyes._ _"My Lord." She was entranced and beautiful, but she was young and Jareth could feel the fear in her heart. She wasn't the one for him, and he knew that immediately. "You give me great honor by Dancing with me, King."_

 _"As you give me honor for willingly coming to Dance." Jareth replied with a dip of his head and a soft smile. No, this girl was not the girl. He wanted Sarah, but he had no power over Sarah. He needed a queen soon, so he would find one like Sarah to settle with._ _This girl was not it._

Jareth stepped away from the teen, his clone standing in for him. He could not send her back yet, for he had to Dance with all willing maidens _or_ choose one before he could send any of them home- that was customary. That was the way.

Jareth looked around at the women he was to Dance with. There were twenty-four left, and many of them had come less dressed than he would have preferred. Perhaps the Kings of old had preferred their women less clothed, but Jareth had always found it against his tastes to have a woman attempt to entice him with her body. It seemed much more like a slave auction than a willing Dance. Moving to the next woman, he entered her Dream.

 _This dream was much more elegant than the one of the child before. However, there was a feeling that left a pit in Jareth's stomach. The woman he danced with was not looking at him like a lover, and her grip on him felt anything but gentle._

 _"My Lady, it is an honor to Dance with you." Jareth whispered to the woman's ear. She glared at him softly and pursed her lips. "Is something amiss? Have I angered you?"_

 _"I am not a Lady; I am a Queen. And will be addressed as such, King." The woman's words dripped with pride and disdain. She looked at him with her chin high, a true cruelty hidden in her eyes. "I will be beneath no one."_

 _"You know not who you speak to, my Lady." Jareth's voice deepened as he began to weave his magic. "You seek darkness, it lies in your heart and in your dreams." Pulling away from the girl he produced a crystal from the air. "I am the Night King, the protector of Dreams, the Lord of the Labyrinth. You will do well to remember that."_ _The woman's eyes widened as she seemed to come to the realization of her mistake. Her dreams had given her the backbone to do as she pleased, to seek what she truly wanted, and he had found the darkness hidden away._

 _"My Lord, my King, please." She knelt down to him. "I beg mercy if not forgiveness."_

 _"And this mercy I shall grant to you." Jareth said as he held the crystal out to the woman. "Take this."_

 _The woman stood abruptly and snatched at the crystal. Her dream began to change into a nightmare and Jareth stepped away. He would leave her to her darkness, perhaps it would teach her. Or it would break her._

Stepping away from the woman, she crumpled. It had been over a hundred years since he had done that to any woman, she would be fine when she returned Above. He was merely teaching her, although he was doing it through pain. Jareth had learned a long time ago that mortals learned best through pain.

Looking around at the rest of the Dancers he felt sad. He was beginning to believe this tradition useless. Then, movement caught his eye and he looked at a woman through the group. She was dancing with one of his clones farthest away from him. Her movements were clumsy and she seemed to be fighting against his enchantments, she almost seemed unwilling to be here.

His curiosity got the best of him as he wandered through the other faceless clones and women. He wanted to see why this woman was fighting so hard against him. No woman, even the unwilling of the past, had actually attempted to _fight_ the spell that would give them their dreams. Reaching the woman, he stopped and watched her dancing with his apparition for a moment before he waved it away.

Jareth looked her over and circled her, she was wearing a deep blue dress that was open near to her navel. The cloak she wore covered the back of the dress and the top most part of it. Her skin looked like soft porcelain and her dark raven hair was curled and pinned, although some of it had pulled free and lay down her shoulders and back. Before he could think of what he was doing, Jareth reached up and unclasped the cloak from behind the girl.

He let it fall to the floor in a flurry of midnight blue fabric and showed Jareth the woman's back. Jareth reached out and gently stroked the skin, it was softer than the finest silks he had ever felt. Coming back around the woman he assessed her one more time. There was something in this body that gave him chills, something so familiar about the curves he was looking at, and he had to find out what it was.

As he looked up the woman's body again his eyes were caught by the brooch holding her dress together, he hadn't noticed it before due to the cloak she had worn. Coming closer to the still girl he looked at it. His eyes widened when he realized what it was.

 _His crest._

Looking up at the face of the woman before him, hidden by a mask that matched the shade of her dress and made her light green eyes almost shine. Her eyes, while beautiful, showed him more than he'd seen before. They were clouded, dreamy, and unseeing. She was already _under_ and enchantment, which is probably why she had fought his.

Reaching up to the mask on the woman's face he placed his fingers under the edge, the woman flinched away from him for a moment. Deciding not to undo the enchantment here, among other women who were enchanted in their own rights, Jareth grabbed the woman in a hug and transported them to his throne room. She was unmoving, still and pale.

The woman was barely breathing, and her heart was beginning to slow from the stress of whatever enchantment that had been placed on her. Jareth imagined that had she stayed Above the enchantment wouldn't be killing her- but here Below where magic lived the enchantment was being made heavier. Too much for the woman to bear.

Reaching up again, he grabbed the mask to pull it off her face. And then he had a different idea. He needn't expose the woman to him this way, for she had come to him covered. In this way of thinking Jareth led her to his throne and sat. He pulled the woman to sit beside him and held her, his hands roaming the woman's back. Usually he wouldn't violate a Dancer's space in such a way, but he refused to let a woman die here when he could help. He just had to be touching her skin to enter the dream.

 _Jareth found himself falling through mists of multiple colors. The enchantment was trying to keep him out._

 _"I, Night King, Protector of Dreams, Lord of the Labyrinth demand entrance to this dream. She is not yours to command." Jareth told the mists. They swirled angrily and pushed against him, so he called out again. "I command you let me pass, this woman is not yours to control. You have no power over her."_

 _The mists backed away and began to form into something. In front of his eyes a woman formed, a face he had never seen before regarded him with saddened eyes and a soft smile._

 _"King of the Night, Protector of Dreams, Lord of the Labyrinth." She bowed her head to him deeply. "I will grant you access to this woman, for she is not mine to control. I must warn you, King, that she is no ones to control. Her spirit flies free and burns brighter than any sun."_

 _"I will accept the challenge. But you are killing her, and I will not have a Dancer die in my realm."_

 _"_ _A Dancer? That's what he has done with her?"_

 _"Who?" Jareth's eyes narrowed, from the way the mists spoke he was probably not going to like the answer._

 _"I am Sian, the Siren of the Sea King. I am his song, and he tasked me to dampen this woman's spirit to his will." Sian replied sadly. "She is a feisty one, and has fought me every step of the way. Her will is strong, much stronger than I have ever seen in a mortal."_

 _Jareth's eyes widened at that statement. His own brother had sent him an enchanted mortal? How_ ** _dare_** _he! How_ ** _dare_** _he interfere with this, the most sacred of the traditions for the Night King! He dared to interfere!_

 _"Let me pass, Sian, before I hold you accountable for the orders of your Lord. Release this woman!" Jareth was nearly yelling now- his voice becoming more animal like as he commanded the spirit. "Release her, I command you!"_

 _"As you wish, King." And Sian relinquished her hold on the woman._

 _The dream was not over, however, for now Jareth had to entice the woman to leave whatever dreams Murtagh had given her._

 _He entered through the mists and found himself back in his ballroom. Except, it wasn't his ballroom- not as it was now anyway. The patrons were mortal, yes, but they were playing at Goblins. Their masks were reminiscent of the faces of the Fae creatures who inhabited his realms._

 _Where had he seem these sorts of masks before? Where had he heard the tune he was listening to before? Why did all of this seem so familiar?_

 _Then, he saw_ _her_ _. Sarah. She wasn't in the too-old for her dress from her teenage years, she was in the very flattering gown she had warn to the festival, to the Dance. She was masked in light, even with the dark cloth covering. She was radiant. She was matured. She. Was. Here._ _Navigating closer to see her he noticed that the song he was hearing, the tune he couldn't place, had been his profession of love to her; he could make some of the words out now._

 _'_ _There's such a fooled heart_

 _Beating so fast in search of new dreams_

 _A love that will last within your heart  
_

 _I'll place the moon within your heart'_

 _His voice sounded eerie and almost wrong to his own ears. As if it was being heard from far away, a great distance through space or time. Or a memory. This was her dream? Why would this be the dream that Murtagh forced her to live through?_

 _The answer came to him in the next moment, for he saw a dream version of himself. He was dancing with a masked woman that_ _wasn't_ _Sarah and completely ignoring the near pleading woman before him._

 _With an animalistic snarl Jareth waved his hand and removed all of the patrons of the ball. He had left only himself and Sarah, who promptly turned around to find herself face to face with him._

 _'Goblin King?' She gasped, her breath hitching. Jareth could almost hear her heart beat begin to race as a blush crawled up her beautiful skin._

 _'Sarah,' Jareth started as he crossed the short distance between them with a wicked smirk on his face. 'I know you know my name, use it.'_

 _He knew that he wouldn't be able to break what was left of his brother's enchanted compulsion until she accepted Jareth's name. Sarah had to see Jareth for what he_ _is_ _not what she had perceived him to_ _be_ _._

 _'I… I know your name, but names have power.' Sarah replied almost defiantly. She was still staring at him as if she had just found the sun for the first time, in near awe. 'If I say your name then I relinquish the power I took from you all those years ago.'_

 _'Someone has learned much I see.' Jareth's smile became wider. Sarah had grown up and had learned more about his kind. He was certain that this was to become a game._ _'If you want to get out of this enchantment you must surrender that power back, Sarah.' Jareth waved his hands to show her the now empty ball room. 'I cannot break this power without having power over you. Say your right words, Sarah.'_

 _Jareth stared at her for a moment, unable to look away. Sarah then began to worry her bottom lip with her teeth and he lost the small amount of control he had managed to cling to. In an instant that felt like eternity Jareth took Sarah into his arms and with all the need of a dying man claimed her lips as his own, his hands spreading across the exposed skin of her lower back._ _Sarah tensed in surprise before she responded in kind to her King. This was a moment she had literally dreamed of for nearly six years; this moment of being in his arms and being ravished by him. Sarah gently nipped at Jareth's bottom lip which earned her a possessive growl as he deepened the kiss. Jareth broke contact with her mouth to trail his lips down her jaw and neck._

 _'Jareth!' Sarah moaned as he found a perfect spot where her neck met her shoulders, he bit down lightly as she said his name._

Sarah's eyes flew open to reveal that she wasn't, in fact, in the ballroom at all. She was still in Jareth's arms and he was looking at her with a widely wicked grin.

 **"I have chosen."** Jareth said, his voice calling upon the deep magic of his realm to be carried through both the Night Kingdom and the world Above. The dance was over; he had chosen his Bride.

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 **Author's Note: Thank all of you who have favorited, reviewed, and followed this story! It was honestly just an idea I had in the back of my mind that I finally decided to put into physical form. I am happy that you are enjoying the ride!**

 **A couple name pronunciations:**

 **Cadeyrn is pronounced k-uh-d-ay-urn**

 **Sian is pronounced sh-aa-n**

 **Reviews:**

 **FireShifter: Here is your Jareth chapter! Sorry to have kept you waiting but this is one of my decently slow burn romance ideas, and even though he is here I will warn you not to expect explicit lemon-like material for a few chapters or so. (I'm not sure if that's what you're into- so I'm covering bases)**

 **LovelyAmberLight: I am glad that you liked my callback to the movie. I was trying to bring in a little bit of the Jareth that we know and love so I added a line he had sad that ANYONE who has seen the movie would remember.**

 **Sazzle76: Thank you for understanding my cliff hanger ending(s). I don't like to add too much to a single chapter because I worry that it will eventually just become too much and be boring. I write to write but I still like my readers to enjoy the experience of reading it. I'm glad you like my show-over-tell approach!**

 **FantasyDreamer06: We will have to see just how angry he is about the enchantment- but I am sure he will be pretty peeved. Jareth seems like the gentleman who would want Sarah willing.**

 **KageTori94: Never fear, I added more! :) Glad you are enjoying the read!**

 **SaralouiseDodge: I'm glad to welcome you to the fun! Thank you for the good review!**


	7. The Rooted Bride

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

 **"I have chosen."** Jareth said, his voice calling upon the deep magic of his realm to be carried through both the Night Kingdom and the world Above. The Dance was over; he had chosen his Bride.

Jareth looked longingly at Sarah whose eyes widened in surprise at her current position. He leaned forward and pressed a single, chaste, kiss to her lips. Barely pulling back, just enough to break the contact, he whispered to her.

"See you soon, love." Sarah opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off as she was transported back to the mortal realm Above.

Jareth smiled to himself in a smug way. He was still going to castrate his brother for this- Murtagh had to have known what he was doing in enchanting poor Sarah into Dancing. But that castration could wait until later, and Jareth had decided he would do so with mercy.

After all, thanks to the enchantment, he now had the power Sarah took from him back. And Jareth could almost feel it buzzing in his body- he felt _whole_ for the first time in six mortal years.

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 **"I have chosen.** " The words reverberated through the hillside, emanating from the wind that howled through the valleys in between. The music suddenly stopped, the voices ceased their signing, and even the fires seemed to die down but not go out completely.

The Maidens who had been dancing began to shake their heads almost drowsily, as if they had come out of a long sleep. A few of them even wiped their eyes in hopes of grounding themselves to the Above once again- although none of them truly understood just what had happened and just where they had been. They believed but even belief had its limits.

Sarah, however, stood there in complete shock. She said nothing, she didn't move nor attempt to do so. Trying to move she actually found that she _couldn't_ move. Something, or someone, had rooted her to the spot on which she had stood.

"A Bride has been chosen!" The elder called out into the night. It echoed across the hills and valleys and was met with cheers in the distance. "The Night King comes!"

As if on cue the fire roared to life and grew well beyond the size it had ever been when made by mortal hands. The heat from the flames seemed to consume all who stood close, yet Sarah remained untouched by the growing flames.

Out of the fire rode a large black horse, bearing his Master to the mortal realms. Cadeyrn was proud as he galloped out of the fire and onto the hilltop. The people gathered all gasped in awe and fell to their feet. The Night King had ridden among them, a feat that had not been seen in generations. He rode with pride, sitting tall on his horse from Below. He was the picture of grace and perfection.

The elder stood, waiting, by the girl who was rooted to the ground. The fact that she was told her all she needed to know at the moment. Tradition stated that only a _willing_ Bride would be able to move, to run to her King, upon his appearance in the Above. However, Sarah remained where she was and the elder woman had even seen her _trying_ to move and failing. Something wasn't right, and the elder was going to get to the bottom of this before handing this woman over to the Night King- it didn't matter how long her or her ancestors had prayed and given offerings to him.

"My Lord, you do so honor our Beltane with your presence." The elder gave a bow to Jareth as he cantered his horse through the people. "We are truly in awe of your magnificent splendor."

"As you give me honor in your devotion, Divone." Jareth said with a small head bow of his own. He wouldn't bow completely to a mortal- but the circumstances called for some measure of returned gratitude. "Your family has always served the Night Kingdom well, and I thank you for finding my Bride on this Beltane."

"You are gracious to award my ancestors with praise, your highness." Divone squared herself up and stepped a little closer to Sarah, her eyes now keen on the terrified looking woman. She didn't know _why_ Sarah seemed terrified but she wanted to know why the girl couldn't move. "Sarah, why have you not run to your King? Embrace him, for he is yours now as you are his."

Sarah whipped her head to Divone, her eyes as wide as saucers and sparkling full of tears that threatened to fall with every shaky breath. _I'm going to fail. I can't move!_ Sarah willed herself to move, wished for it with all of her might; yet she couldn't. The crowd gasped at the implications for all true believers knew the story of the rooted Bride, destined to be alone and spurned by all lovers as she had once spurned her King. The legend always laid blame on the Bride, as it was only possible to be rooted if the woman hadn't been truly _willing_ in her heart.

"It seems, my King, that your Bride is unable to come to you." Divone called out into the darkness. "We all know the legend, the tradition, of the Rooted Bride. She must now be tested, judged for her worth and her heart. You will need a witness, my Lord, as tradition dictates. Should she fail this woman will be cast out, as is proper, to never again Dance around the Beltane fires."

"Murtagh, come forth from the shadows!" Jareth yelled out into the darkness of the hills, yet his voice created no echo that a mortal could hear. The command had been for a Fae so only a Fae would hear the echoes of the power left behind.

Stepping from the crowd and into the light of the fire Murtagh came with all of the glory of the Fae Royalty that he was. Beside him, her eyes alight with an enchantment, stood Kat in full Fae court regalia. Murtagh was putting on a grand show for the mortals, Jareth knew, but at the same time he was also trying to show his older brother that he wasn't to be trifled with when this was over. Jareth was disinclined to agree and still planned to challenge his brother once they returned Below.

"Will you be my witness to the judgement of this mortal woman whom I have chosen to be my Bride?" Jareth asked in a quiet tone, his voice deep and deathly sounding. Jareth knew that whatever was rooting Sarah was Murtagh's fault, the enchantment she had been under had negated the ancient magic of the Dance. Murtagh had broken the rules.

"I, Murtagh, King of the Sea and Lord of Lost Souls, do so agree to be your witness on this Beltane, Night King." Murtagh gave a deep bow and with a small wave of his hand dew droplets began to creep towards the fire and formed a chair reminiscent of a throne for him to sit on. "I shall witness the judging of your Bride's heart."

Jareth called forth a crystal and threw it upon the ground- and just like Murtagh's magic a throne formed for him to sit upon. He strode to it proudly, almost cockily, and sat down. Murtagh followed to his own throne and sat, pulling Kat into his embrace and putting her on his lap. The spell she was under was merely to stop her from remembering this moment- Murtagh had not advised his love of his immortality yet, and did not want this to cause her to run away.

The mortals around the fire, which now included some who had run from their own on other hills, all sat down once both Fae Royals had done so themselves. This event had not been seen in over a millennia- for even the most recent Brides had been willing. The only reason the Night King still had Dancers was that he had been unable to convince any of his chosen to remain in the Below with him, for he only had a year and a day once the handfasting was performed on Beltane after the Dance.

"We are ready, Divone. The woman shall be judged." Jareth's voice was practically dripping with regality. This was formal, in the mortal realm or not, and he would treat it as such.

 _This is mildly unfair, since no one seems to have thought to_ _ **ask**_ _me._ Sarah thought darkly to herself. It was less of an inner whine and more of an angry monologue. She narrowed her eyes at Murtagh in his throne, her thoughts dark and threatening harm to the Fae royal. _I mean, mortal I may be but do I not have a choice?!_

"I, Divone MacBradaigh, call forth the old traditions and ancient magic. Let us her on this Beltane judge the maiden Sarah for her worth and heart as she has returned from her Dance chosen yet Rooted." Divone held her hands into the sky and the fire roared up again, high into the night. "Sarah," Divone turned to the girl who had been staring angrily at her own feet. When Sarah looked up it was obvious she had been crying. "Face your King."

Sarah clenched her jaw and turned her head to face him, to look at Jareth. It seemed only fitting that the moment he had power over her again he humiliated her, right? She had once done the same, and she knew it. She had learned enough Fae lore to know the humiliation Jareth had suffered at the hands of a mortal defeating his Labyrinth- so this was revenge wasn't it? That's why Murtagh demanded she dance. Sarah narrowed her eyes at the two, close enough in looks to be brothers, and set her mouth in a grim line.

 _You have no power over me, no matter what I said. You, Goblin King, will never have power over me again._ Sarah thought angrily to herself. She wasn't upset that this wasn't fair, whether or not it was or wasn't. Life was rarely fair to those who got entangled with the wrong forces, mortal or otherwise. Sarah had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Turning her eyes to Kat she could tell even from a distance that her friend was under a spell, and her heart wept. Kat was a pawn, wasn't she? Just a pawn to get at Sarah.

"Maiden, with your eyes upon your King will you declare your _willingness_ to be submitted to trial? To be judged, here and now in front of witnesses?" Divone asked solemnly. She hoped with all of her heart the girl chose the right words, for the wrong ones could meant death or worse.

"I, Sarah Williams, do so agree to be judged on this Beltane in front of witnesses both Fae and mortal." Sarah replied strongly. She wasn't sure where the words came from but somehow they had come. Somehow she had _known_ that those were the right words.

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 **Author's Note: Thank you again for the reads and reviews! They make the writing experience much more fun, though there will** ** _never_** **be a requirement for either to have a new chapter posted. That much I can at least promise you.**

 **New names to pronounce in this chapter are:**

 **Divone: pronounce Dee (hard D) – v (normal V sound) – own (like the word)**

 **Reviews:**

 **SarahlousiseDodge: I hope that I didn't upset you with the small throwback to 'it's unfair!' Sarah here, I just wanted to tie the story to the movie we all know and show a little bit of her growing up- hence why she didn't focus on that feeling too long.**

 **Sazzle76: Haha, a bit of a sneaky git right? I mean- if you can't be a** ** _little_** **bit of a git then where's the fun? Thank you again for your review and I'm glad that you liked the last chapter!**

 **LovelyAmberLight: I happen to love Powerful Jareth as well- especially given what we know of him from the movie (and the comics/book; both of which I have read). He seems like he would have more power than a crystal that can change his Labyrinth and create dreams. I'm also pulling a LOT of this story from Celtic (together), Irish (on its own), Scottish (on its own), and Nordic traditions and myths. Although I will admit that I am adding my own twist to things; won't lie about that!**

 **FireShifter: Looks like we'll have to wait just a little bit longer to see if she will willingly accept him. I'm sorry for another cliffhanger but I am most definitely a sucker for buildup to the moment as well as the moment itself.**

 **Honoria Granger: I thank you very much for all of your reviews on the story. And yes, I can see them. It just seems like they may not be updating immediately on either end, but no fears I am seeing them and I am very grateful for your love of the story!**

 **Dekejis: I am glad that you love it, and I am sorry (not sorry) about having to make you wait longer for a little more action as I really couldn't justify a nearly 8,000 word chapter to put the whole trial in one go.**


	8. The Trial of a Champion

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable characters or prior events. This story is of my making but I am making it within the world of Jim Henson's design. Please don't sue me. Thanks! ****

* * *

"I, Sarah Williams, do so agree to be judged on this Beltane in front of witnesses both Fae and mortal." Sarah replied strongly. She wasn't sure where the words came from but somehow they had come. Somehow she had _known_ that those were the right words.

 _I should be surprised this woman found the words of tradition- not that any affirmation wouldn't have worked. Why, then, am I not?_ Divone thought to herself as she nodded her head to Sarah after the girl gave the affirmation of judgement.

"Then, Sarah Williams, you shall be judged before your King. You must prove your worth to the Night King and then, wholly and completely, give yourself to him. If you cannot you will be forever tainted as a Rooted Bride. This means, according to the ancient magic, that you will be forever spurned by lovers and unable to fill the hole in your heart- just as you will have left a hole in the heart of the Night King." Divone began, her voice solemn and soft; barely audible outside of the circle of Fae and mortal. She turned to where Jareth and Murtagh were sitting, her eyes seeking the approval to begin. "With your approval, my Lords, may we begin the Judgement?"

"You may begin, elder Divone." Jareth gave the woman a small nod and produced a crystal, he juggled it for a moment before he held it up and blew on it. "As for the test of worth, I can be assistance of that. Sarah, if you will, please touch this crystal with the wound you were given to bleed for the dance. The magic will need your blood."

Sarah held out her hand that had been previously cut by Divone. The wound had healed but Divone produced a small dagger and reopened the small incision, Sarah's blood shined in a morbid way in the firelight. Divone gripped Sarah's wrist when the girl flinched. The crystal floated almost like a fully solid bubble to rest in Sarah's hand. The blood touched the crystal and suddenly it seemed to burn hot in Sarah's palm. She almost dropped it in surprise, but the crystal then floated half the space between where the girl stood and Jareth sat to become larger. The glow was bright but it hurt no one's eyes, even in the dark.

 _Sarah was standing atop a staircase in the room of impossibilities, she called out to Toby beneath her. Resolve showed on her face as the realization of just what was to be required of her flowed over her features. She was going to have to jump to Toby._

 _With a look at Jareth, Sarah leaped into the air in hopes of reaching Toby in time to break the wish she had made in haste and anger. Toby was innocent, she had realized this. Toby was a baby, her baby brother, and did not deserve whatever plans the Goblin King had for him._

 _Her descent was slowed, however, and Toby disappeared along with most of the room. Pieces of the wall floated around her as she looked around in great surprise. Jareth stepped forward from the shadows, he stalked towards the girl with a soft malice in his eyes._

The memory seemed to speed up, skipping the bits that didn't matter or that were deemed private. At least Jareth was willing to spare Sarah _some_ embarrassment through this whole ordeal. The girl had already been through enough, and would have to be through more before this Judgement was over.

 _The Sarah in the crystal stared at the white clothed Jareth in a challenge as she backed him away from her with her words._

 _'Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the city! For my will is as strong as yours, and my-!" Sarah was interrupted by the Goblin King._

 _'Stop! Wait…' Jareth held out the crystal in his gloved hand. 'Look what I'm offering you, your dreams.'_

 _'My Kingdom as great…' Her eyes widened as she realized that she couldn't remember the next line. 'Kingdom as great… damn! I can never remember that line…'_

 _'I ask for so little.' Jareth pleaded, his eyes softened of the malice that had been in them. 'Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.'_

 _Sarah looked up in triumph as Jareth moved closer to her, his eyes seeking the strength he could see in them. Jareth thought he had won._

 _'You have no power over me.' Sarah said, repeating it again with more resolve. 'You have no power over me!'_

The final words emanated from the crystal and echoed through the hill, the mortals all were aghast at the sight. Sarah had denied the Night King; she had taken her power back! How, then, had she even come to be a Dancer? It shouldn't have been possible!

"That is proof enough of her worth, Divone. This woman not only beat my Labyrinth but she also took any power I had over her when she did." Jareth said as the crystal came back to him. He thought about keeping it as it had Sarah's blood trapped inside of it now and blood was needed for the bonding between him and is Queen to be complete. He decided against keeping it and shattered the crystal in his hands, the magic blowing away with the wind. When she gave for the bond he wanted her to give fully willingly- he wanted her surrender to the bond.

"That proves she has worth, yes. But how then was she able to Dance? A Dancer would have to willingly surrender their power to you. This is why we burn their blood in the fires. They wouldn't burn if you didn't have the power to pull them to you. How was this accomplished without breaking the ancient rules?" Divone spoke with full authority. The hills seemed to accept her authority as a soft song wafted through the valleys below.

"You can always ask her, being Rooted will now allow her to lie." Murtagh spoke. His words were charming and believable, for all he was actually lying himself. The Root would stop outright lies- things that would never be true- but it _would_ allow Sarah to lie enough to pass the trial. He just had to hope Sarah was willing to lie in front of so many people.

Divone turned her eyes to Murtagh for a moment and narrowed them. She had not forgotten his enchantment on the girl and was beginning to suspect that this was the Sea King's doing, and that poor Sarah had nothing to do with the whole situation beyond being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She turned to Jareth and smiled a soft but commanding smile.

"My King, King of the Night and Protector of Dreams, Lord of the Labyrinth; is this true?" She asked succinctly. "Will this woman be able to lie whilst rooted?"

Jareth shook his head, twisting the rules to suit himself best. "It is true; she will be unable to lie. The ancient magic will not allow her to speak untruths during the Trial."

Divone turned to Sarah. She regarded the woman, the tears in her eyes and the sadness in her face. There was obviously something she _wanted_ to say but wasn't saying. Perhaps something she _couldn't_ say. Divone was unsure which one- but it was obviously one of them.

"Sarah Williams, to prove that no rules were broken and that your Dance was in accordance with the ancient rules I must ask you some questions. You will be unable to lie and must completely answer the questions asked of you. To fail is to admit a break in the ancient rules. Do you understand?" Divone waited a moment for the girl to respond.

"I do not understand the ancient rules but I understand my duty to follow them." Sarah replied, still unsure where the words were coming from. They weren't hers, and yet they were. What was going on with her?

"Then under those ancient rules, harken to me and answer for all to hear!" Divone barked. "Did you take hold of the Night King's power over you?"

"Yes, I took his power over me."

"Did you, or did you not, beat his Labyrinth in accordance with the rules?"

"I won the Labyrinth through nothing more than my own cunning." Sarah replied. "I used my wits, my logic, and my friends."

"Your friends?" Divone requested, pressing the issue further. "How would you have friends in the Night Kingdom as a mortal?"

"I made them along the way. I befriended a dwarf by the name of Hoggle, a Knight of the Realm Sir Didymus, and a rock caller whose name is Ludo."

"Night King," Divone looked up at Jareth suddenly. "By right of the elder and keeper of the ancient magic I request the right to call at least one of those _friends_ as a witness for Sarah."

"I must decline, unfortunately." Jareth replied mildly. He gave a short wave of his hand and a half shrug. "Those mentioned are my subjects but I know not where they are at all times- and even with my expansive grip on my lands I would be unable to call them before us in time for this Trial. You will have to trust the word of the Maiden." Jareth was lying through his teeth and it almost made Murtagh laugh. Jareth could easily call forth any of his subjects from _any_ lands- his own or another Kingdom in the Below.

Divone grumbled and thought about the Night King's words. She had sworn, many years past, that she would always trust in her King and follow the ancient magic. There were rules even she couldn't ignore and this was one of them. The Night King denied her request and she was unable to ask again. Turning once more to the girl in a huff, Divone decided to ask the one question she knew would set the girl free, even if freedom came at a terrible price.

"Sarah Williams- did you give the Night King back the power that you took from him? And in so doing were you in any way forced to Dance by the Night King or another?" Divone's voice cut the night, Murtagh began to sweat in his throne. If Sarah answered this as honestly as she really _could_ then it would come about that Murtagh himself had broken the ancient magic; and the rules regarding that were without mercy in their punishments.

"I, Sarah Williams, do hereby swear that I did in fact give the Night King back the power that I had rightfully, if forcefully, taken." Sarah began. She paused and looked from Divone to Jareth, who had begun to learn forward on the crystal throne he had created for himself. His anxiety was clear on his face and he seemed almost afraid of the next words that were to come out of Sarah's mouth for she had only answered one of the questions. "I also swear that I was under no duress and that I willingly Danced with the Night King; there was no trickery involved and my thoughts were my own." Sarah bent the truth just a little. No, she hadn't consciously signed her name or cut her hand- yet in truth she had been dancing with Jareth in her mind; in the dreams Murtagh had given her.

Jareth let out the breath that he had been holding in. Sarah had chosen him. _Him._ She may not have professed her love, but she had still chosen to lie for him over telling the truth and being free of his influence forever. And that, he believed, was a start.

Divone looked at the girl calculatingly. She had been told that it was impossible to lie while Rooted but at the same time she had also known many of the lore and tales of the Fae and their ability to twist the truth to suit their needs. She couldn't outright deny the truth for she had no proof. Heaving a sigh, she tried to give the girl one last shot at freedom.

"If what you say is true, Maiden, then go to your King. Give yourself to him wholly and completely and allow yourself to be joined to him in handfasting for a year and a day- wherein you will be allowed to choose whether or not you wish to remain his Bride." Divone said, gesturing in the space between Jareth and Sarah. It was about ten or fifteen steps, not much real distance at all. But if the girl could not walk that distance then it would become apparent that she _wasn't_ willing. It was one last shot Divone could give Sarah for freedom.

 _Walk to your King._ Sarah commanded herself as she looked at Jareth and then back at her feet. His smile faltered when she did not immediately move towards him, time seeming to slow as she thought for a moment. _Is this what I really want? Do I really_ _ **want**_ _to be handfast to Jareth for a year and a day? Do I love him?_ Sarah thought hard for a minute and worried at her bottom lip again, it was a habit she had picked up as a teen and had yet to break, though she tried. _I may not love him, but I don't want him to go away._ Another voice in her head, a soft and sad voice that wasn't hers, began to invade her mind. _Everything I've done I've done for you…_ _ **Do I love him?**_ _I move the stars for no one…_

Sarah looked back at Jareth and squared her shoulders as Divone prepared to call out her unwillingness to the hills. _Go to your King!_ Sarah stepped away from the spot to which she had been rooted, slowly and carefully. She couldn't take her eyes off of Jareth's mismatched ones, she felt entranced again yet she knew no magic was forcing her forward. It was only her.

Once she reached Jareth and his crystal throne, Sarah knelt down low. She touched her knees to the ground and knelt forward to touch his feet with her hands, though just barely.

"My King, I submit to you and accept being Chosen." The alien words came forth from her lips again as she knelt. Jareth hid a smile and reached down to touch Sarah's hair, causing the girl to look up. He placed his hand ever so gently under her chin and gave a soft half smile; Jareth then gently pulled upward on Sarah's chin so she began to stand in front of him.

"I accept you as my Bride, and do so wish to be handfast in front of the great fire this Beltane night." Jareth replied, his voice echoing through the hills and reverberating through the ground and the oceans. The ancient magic was accepting of the match.

Now the rest would be up to him.


	9. Vowing a Year and a Day

**** Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable events/characters therein; they are the property of the late Jim Henson and his estate, Brian Froud, and or the distribution companies whom hold legal rights to this property. The only things I can claim are my original characters, additions to the world, and new events ****

* * *

 _ **A/N: I want to address a couple things about this story, and this particular chapter, before you read it. I am hoping that doing this I can avoid some of the lambasting that I am probably going to get at the end of this chapter.**_

 _ **1\. This story, and especially this chapter has a lot of mythology and theology involved. The myths, lore, and stories involved are an amalgamation of research and personal experience.**_

 ** _2\. There are pieces of MULTIPLE Pagan religious references as well as non-religious lore references in this story. This chapter has more than any before it, and probably quite a few after._**

 ** _3\. I realize that to someone who is Pagan there are some inconsistencies to the rituals herein; there is a reason for this. I used pieces of Celtic Paganism, Druid/Neo-Druidism, Wicca, and other Shamanic Pagan practices for this. I realize that there are things that don't match with one but if you look at the other it matches to a point. The melting pot that is my research for this and my blending of the lore and rituals is what caused this._**

 ** _I am not trying to offend or appropriate from any religion or practitioner of said religions. _**

**_I spent hours researching and trying to go about this as respectfully as I can. I thank you for your understanding and hope that you will take to this kindly._**

 ** _Thank you._**

* * *

Things began to happen very quickly around Sarah and Jareth, the pair still staring at each other with locked eyes.

Jareth's a mismatched blue on the right, it was light and mischievous- the color seemed to dance in the light of the fire. His left eye was much darker, almost completely black. Sarah felt that she could see two different worlds in his eyes, it was almost like looking at two different people.

Sarah's eyes had not changed much in their years apart. She was older and the knowledge contained in her eyes still spurred feelings inside of Jareth that he never thought possible before. Her fooled romantic heart was gone, that much he could see. It had changed, been replaced, by a heart that seemed guarded- a heart that would possibly be even harder to win from her.

Her childish immaturity was long gone, replaced by the realities of life in the Realm of the Land. She had blossomed into a beautiful woman, and her allure had not changed at all. If anything, her lifeforce called to him more, it pulled at his being with more force and ferocity than anything he could have ever imagined.

Murtagh watched in mirthful abandon as his brother and the Champion seemed to measure the other with their eyes. It was not something many mortals could do- look a Fae in the eyes for any long period of time. Their natural magic tended to either enthrall and entrance the mortal being- it was a tradeoff of sorts. The mortal would learn knowledge and see worlds beyond their own, but in exchange they will give of themselves the greatest thing they possess; their very souls.

Glancing at his ladylove, Murtagh raked his eyes up and down her exposed body. The typical garb for a Fae queen was regal, but the Fae didn't exactly have the same issues of modesty that humans had. Modesty, heh, Murtagh would have chuckled in scorn at the very idea. The King of the Sea was well known for his love of feminine beauty, Fae and mortal. Their bodies seemed to bewitch him with their curves and soft features.

He enjoyed seeing Katrice in such clothing, and hoped very much that his brother would disentangle himself enough from his Champion to help him keep her. The only lands Below that required a mortal queen were that of the Night Realm, the King of Dreams, the Lord of the Labyrinth. Great ancestors did his brother have a long and convoluted title.

As egotistical as the man who held it.

Divone finally stopped ordering her Daughters to prepare for the handfasting, everything was ready. Her gut told her this was wrong- that the enchantments the Sea King placed on the girl had done more than lower her inhibitions… but she couldn't voice such things. The girl had won her independence from the Night King, taken his power over her away. She wore his crest, had spoken the right words.

And then had given all that power back in the end.

"My King," Divone spoke clearly to the Fae who both seemed wrapped in their consorts. She watched the girl, Sarah, for any sign of hesitation or discord. "The handfasting can begin."

When Jareth broke contact with Sarah to look at Divone the girl looked to the ground with a blush. She certainly seemed the part of a blushing bride, jittery and almost afraid. The elder still could not shake the feeling that she was dooming the girl to a fate that the girl had run from.

"Then let us begin, the night grows old and morning comes." Jareth spoke the required niceties- the same words he had spoken on many occasion, with brides before. This was no different a ceremony, though Jareth did find himself desperately hoping that it would be his _last_.

Jareth stood and reached for Sarah's hand. She gasped at the touch and looked up at him, gazing again at the face that had haunted her dreams and memories since she had left his Labyrinth. He brought her hand to his lips and grazed the skin with the barest of touches that seemed to ignite a fire down her arm and into her chest.

Leading Sarah to stand at the southernmost point on the circle that had been laid into the grass he released her hand to walk around the edge of the circle to the North. A typical mortal handfasting would have the couple come from East and West but this was different in that, with him being Fae and of the Realm of the Sea, their positions would correspond to his stature and graces.

Divone stood next to a great stone in the center of the circle, on the stone stood a figure of Rhiannon astride a great horse. The Mare of Sovereignty seemed to glow in the moonlight, a blessing from Rhiannon herself and a token that she approved such a match. Jareth smiled knowingly to himself as he looked at the glittering visage of his kin. It was unlikely that the mortals, even Divone, would understand the glow to the figurine.

Once the couple was in place Divone motioned to one of her cloaked Daughters to begin. She started at the easternmost point of the circle, a blunted blade in her hand pointed to the ground. She walked slowly, purposefully, around the circle in a clockwise motion. She whispered as she walked, the words echoing into the night thanks to a little help from Jareth and Murtagh.

"We are a circle, within a circle, gathered is our energy. Within this our power hath no beginning and is never ending." She circled the three, Sarah and Jareth were inside the circle in which the woman walked, three times. The crowd outside of the circle seemed to be muttering their own words along with the young woman but Sarah couldn't make them out.

Her mind was still a little foggy from all of the enchantments and try as she might she couldn't shake the daze of being in front of Jareth again. His beauty was enticing in this light, he seemed to be shining in all of his glory as he had done once before. _You wanted this._ She found herself thinking in the recesses of her mind, squaring her shoulders and bracing for what was to come. _You dreamed of this. You asked for this. He promised to be with you as the world falls down. Remember his promise, make him keep it._

Once the woman was back at the Eastern point for the final time she stopped, the blade disappeared within her robes, and she stepped back. Four others stepped forward in her place, their arms and hands hidden beneath their cloaks. They waited, it seemed, for Divone to continue the ritual.

"Watchers of the East and air, Guardians of abundance and prosperity, we call on thee tonight- hark and be seen in our mortal sight. Bring us your wisdom in this our circle, hail and welcome!" The woman who stood at the eastern point brought her hands forth from her robes, within them she held a handful of what looked like dried summer flowers, yellow in color. They were wrapped tightly in a bundle, she held them aloft as Divone spoke, the wind rustled through them.

"Hark, hail, and welcome." The gathered crowd whispered as the breeze brought with it a whisper. The flowers within the woman's hand suddenly began to smoke as if on fire, a calming and robust scent drifted through the air. It was hard to nail down _what_ the scent was, but Sarah could faintly tell it was floral in making.

Divone turned now to the Southern point, she was looking past Sarah to the woman behind her. Sarah wished she could break whatever spell seemed to be on her body because she longed to see what the woman behind her held, but she could not move.

"Guardians of the South, blessings be upon you this night. We ask you, creatures of water and knowledge- bring forth your treasures to us within this circle of light. Harken to us, hail and welcome!" Divone spoke again, the answering winds brought the sound of great waves crashing against rocks, Sarah could almost smell the sea and see the ocean even in the dark.

Behind Sarah, the woman produced a chalice filled with water. It was blue with intricate designs across its outside, Murtagh had to admire the craftsmanship of it all. Knowing that this was where he could be of help, he gently waved his hand and sent his magic to the cup. The water within began to dance, culminating in a swirling spiral that strove skyward into the darkness of the night.

"Hark, hail, and welcome." The hushed crowd spoke again. Murtagh smiled to himself as the air seemed to vibrate in reverence. It wasn't often that he got to be in Realm of the Land for such rituals and he preened at the prayers of the humans in his presence.

It was nice to know they still believed.

"Keepers of the West, seekers of illumination and knowledge, we call on thee to bring thy earthly influences here. Mysteries you are, mysteries you shall remain, we call thee with grace to ground our rites in this place. Harken to our calls, hail and welcome." Divone waited as the woman drew her hands from her robes, showing the crowd who could see the contents of her palms.

She held a clay dish filled with salts. The salts were of many colors, piled high in the unpainted clay dish. The crowd waited, hushed and ready, for a sign from the Keepers of the West that they were in attendance. It came in the form of a rumbling whisper beneath their feet, a groaning vibration from deep within the earth and rock on which they stood.

"Hark, hail, and welcome."

Finally, Divone turned to Jareth and the Northern direction, the woman behind him obscured from the elder's sight by his great form. She continued either way, sightline was not important for this; merely the energies involved.

"Fighters of the North, bringers of flame and darkness, we call on thee to guard these rites and rituals on this Beltane eve; asking humbly of thee to come forth upon us gathered here. Harken to our plea, hail and welcome great protectors."

The woman behind Jareth, though unseen by many, brought her hands out of her cloak to reveal a long and blunted blade, the edges dull with time and battle. It was a great sword, one that had seen the trials of death and combat, though it was now covered in red and orange candles. They were unlit and seemed nearly fused to the metal on which their wax set.

Nothing happened for long moments, the crowd and Divone's anticipation heightening with each passing second of silence. Out of the darkness came a great screaming caw, an eagle screamed its song into the darkness. The bird's loud cawing trill seemed to echo through the night, bringing with it the sound of swords and battle. As the sound passed over them in the darkness the candles burst into bright flames.

"Hark, hail, and welcome." The crowd finished the phrasing, silence again befell.

"Great Mare of Sovereignty; Rhiannon, guide of souls. We call thee to our circle this night, bring your light and energy from without to within. Pour into those here the strength to bear witness to these rites, and guide our energies into the unknown this night." Divone knelt to touch the stone by which she stood, waiting.

In a shock to all, the horse and its rider began to glow as bright as the sun in a pure white light. It broke through the darkness of the night and brought all surrounding the circle, save for the women holding their trinkets and Jareth, to their knees. Even Sarah knelt in reverence to such light, its comforting glow bringing an inner peace to her heart.

Once the light died down after a few moments there was a gasp of shock and awe from the crowd, even Divone could not stop herself from having a reaction to the sight that she saw now. The statue was now rearing, it looked so lifelike that Divone was hard put not to believe there was actually wind blowing through the mane of the horse and the hair of its rider.

"Hail and welcome, Rhiannon." Divone whispered to the statue, ignoring the echoing whispers of the gathered mass outside of the circle. This had been the last test that Divone had waited for, to see if the great Goddess of the Sun and lost souls would bless such a union. The old magic stopped Divone from interfering without help, and now it seemed that help was not forthcoming. The Gods saw fit to bless this, and honor that blessing she must.

Standing, Divone addressed the crowd directly. "The Circle has been cast, the directions called, blessings come forth from the elements on this night. Now we must bless the Realms, and bring unity unto this place before the rites can begin." The crowed murmured their agreements and continued to kneel while Divone stood once again. Her voice seemed deep and ancient as she spoke the words, Sarah almost felt as though she was speaking from the reaches of time instead of distance.

It was a heavy thing, writhing and swirling in the air between her and the rest. She couldn't tell just what it was, or what she was feeling. But there was something there, a presence she had yet to define. Belief, as she once told Kat, was the focal point of all magic. And it did Sarah no good to lose faith now, the wheels of time were already turning- her fate was locked for now.

" _Our world is made of Sacred Three,_

 _We invoke you; Sky, and Land, and Sea._

 _We stand at the Center of Realms this night_

 _And may we all be purified by this fire's sacred light._

 _Within the cauldron of God's are we,_

 _Connected and whole by the Sacred Three."_

As the words were repeated in a round, three times from what Sarah could count, the wind picked up and the sky itself seemed to tremble just as the earth below their feet. The sounds of waves and crackling fire were brash undertones to the hushed voices. Sarah could also make out a tune of flutes and strings and pipes beneath the sounds of earth and sky. The magic of the night was immense and crushing, had she not thought it would break the spell she would have cried out in fear.

Once the echoes were past and the noise had died down, Divone held her hands to the sky palm outward to signal the crowd to an instant alerted state. With bated breath they waited, with unblinking eyes they watched. The Bride was now to be handfast to the Night King- and their journey of a year and a day would begin.

"On this Beltane eve, before witnesses mortal and Fae, the Night King has chosen a Bride to take for a year and a day. She has danced and entranced her King and proved her worth when called upon. The Bride he has chosen is of mortal blood, pure and innocent of man's touch. She has beaten the Labyrinth in which the King is majesty- taking his power over her upon so doing." Divone spoke to the crowd, which had grown as riders from other fires had come. "Night King, honor your Bride by stepping to the Center stone."

Jareth strode forward with grace and fluidity that both allured and caused jealousy in Sarah. His movements were so purposeful and there was beauty in their purpose. She hoped that she could match his nearly overconfident swagger when called to come forward. She knew she wouldn't, but Sarah wasn't going to give up hope.

Divone turned to Sarah and motioned. "Sarah, Bride of Night, honor your King by stepping forward." With uncertain steps, Sarah acquiesced to the woman's words, coming forward to stand on the opposite side of the stone than Jareth. They now stood barely half an arm's reach apart. "King, Protector of Dreams, Lord of the Labyrinth; extend to your Bride your right arm." Jareth held out his hand, palm upward. "Sarah, extend to your King your left arm."

Sarah held her left arm, palm downward, out to Jareth. It hovered a few inches above his arm. Divone placed her hands on their forearms and brought them together as she continued to speak.

"You have, separately, agreed to become one on this night. Your union will last for a year and a day- such time will allow your courtship to blossom and take root, or it will wither away. Do you understand?"

"I do." Jareth said, mirrored by Sarah moments later.

Divone released their hands and reached into the sleeves of her robe to reveal long cords of cloth. The colors were bright even in darkness, and they looked as if they were made of flowing water to Sarah's eyes. The cords were beautiful, a contrast to the darkness around them.

"First, the color blue." Divone began to wrap their arms with the silken ribbon. "Blue for the Sea, blue for safe journeys. Blue for strength." The elder woman turned her eyes to Jareth as she continued wrapping. "Great King, will you guide your bride in strength through your journey together, do you vow to see her safely through the long night?"

"I will see her safely through the Realm of the Sea and beyond, elder Divone." Jareth kept his gaze locked on Sarah as he spoke.

"Sarah, Bride, will you allow your King to guide you through the night with his strength, and will you guide him to the light with your own?"

"I will lead and be led; our strengths will grow and combine. Mine to his, his to mine." Sarah replied dreamily. She was conscious of her words even as she still did not know where they came from.

Divone finished the final wrap of the blue ribbon as Sarah spoke. She nodded to the pair and grabbed another ribbon from her shoulders.

"Brown; for home and hearth. Brown for nurturing, healing scars." She began to wrap their wrists as she had with the blue, speaking first to Sarah this time. "Bride, do you hereby vow to nurture and heal your connections to the Night King on your journey together? Will you bring light and life to his home and hearth?"

"I vow to heal the connections that have broken and to nurture those that remain. I vow to bring the light inside me to warm his hearth in the long night until this, our year and a day, finds its end." Sarah watched Jareth closely as she spoke. The emotions and imagery in his eyes keeping her wholly occupied as she thought of the dreams she had every night.

"Night King, your bride will bring you light and life. She will warm your home and hearth with her presence. Do you vow in return to nurture her spirit in your Realm of night?"

"My Bride will blossom under the everlasting moon, I will tend her needs and feed her spirit. This I vow." Jareth's features softened for the barest of moments, his face becoming as readable as a book to Sarah's untrained eye. She couldn't discern, however, what she saw before it was gone.

"Red. Red for courage, red for love. Red for will." Divone turned back to Jareth as she spoke, wrapping the red over the blue and brown ribbons. "Night King, your majesty rests in eternal night. Your will is mighty, your love more so. Do you vow to show your Bride the great will of the Night King and to love her during your journey together?"

"I vow to show my Bride the will of the Night King and his Kingdom, and so too will I love her until our journey ends together." Jareth's reply was calm, though his eyes were anything but.

"Bride, will you have the courage to withstand the Night King and his will? Do you vow to have the courage to face a love that could consume you?"

"He cannot possess me for I belong to myself. I will withstand and return both will and love for as long as we both wish it; I will give to him as he gives to me. He cannot command me for I am a free person. I will shield his back and him mine." Sarah found the words alien to her tongue. Her brow furrowed in the confusion. Jareth saw it cross her face for a few heart wrenching moments, but it passed as quickly as it came and Sarah did not end the ceremony.

"Finally, interwoven together. Black and White. Life and Death. Light and Darkness. White for truth and peace. Black for empowerment and wisdom. White for devotion. Black for success." She looked at both participants as she wrapped the final ribbons, already curled around the other. "King and Bride, Bride and King. Tonight, you become one whole with two parts, two parts of one whole. Separate you will remain, though One you will become."

" _Now you are bound one to the other_ _  
_ _With a tie not easy to break._ _  
_ _Take the time of binding_ _  
_ _Before the final vows are made_ _  
_ _To learn what you need to know -_ _  
_ _To grow in wisdom and love._ _  
_ _That your marriage will be strong_ _  
_ _That your love will last_ _  
_ _In this life and beyond."_

Sarah thought the crowd had begun to speak until she realized that it was voices on the wind. Old voices, young voices, ethereal and inhuman voices. Divone spoke with them, but not all of them came from her. It sent a great shiver down her spine as she looked into Jareth's deep and mismatched eyes. There was acceptance there, a warmth she did not remember from the last time she saw him. He had changed, just as she.

"King, take hold of your Bride's hand." Jareth ran his fingers on the sensitive skin along the underside of Sarah's forearm as he brought his hand to hers. The shivers down her back grew and stoked a fire inside of her belly. "Seal the vows as tight as the knot."

Sarah didn't know what Divone meant by that statement until his reaction to it happened. Jareth leaned forward, clasped his free hand behind her back. He took a single step to the side of the statue and then brought her to him. Sarah gasped at his commanding stance, the strength of the hand at her back bringing her to a jarring realization. She had just agreed to marry, if only for a year and a day, Jareth. _The_ Jareth, Goblin King. Lord of the Labyrinth.

The thought didn't have time to register as she found her body pressed against his own. She looked up at the taller man, her mouth open slightly from her gasp. He looked at her longingly for a second or two before bringing his face down to hers and claiming her mouth as his own.

His kiss was strong and unyielding, yet soft and giving. It was a contradictory thing, bringing great fire and warmth to Sarah but also a feeling of cold and ice. The arm wrapped around her lower back brought her ever closer to him as they kissed, her body giving to the hardness that was his.

"The bond is sealed and the knot is tied. A year and a day the King will have to seduce his Bride." Divone's words were faded to Sarah's ears, though she still heard them. The phrasing had her questioning, and had she not been occupied with Jareth's mouth she would have questioned the last bit.

 _A year and a day the King will have to seduce his Bride._

She had a feeling in her gut that Divone was talking literally, carnally, about that.

"As it was, as it is, as it evermore shall be. I stand at the Center- of Earth, Sky and Sea." Divone raised her arms again, the wind coming back to whip at the pair as Jareth continued to explore Sarah's yielding and unsure mouth.

The year and a day might lie ahead of them, and it would bring with it moments that Jareth would treasure. But this one, this was a moment he was going to _relish_ in before the reality of their bargain came to a head in Sarah's questioning and strong willed mind.

* * *

 _A/N (part deux): Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this next and long awaited chapter. I understand that I am a little early (I had originally Tumblr announced this comeback for the 20th but I couldn't wait) and I do hope that you enjoyed reading it as much if not more than I enjoyed researching and writing it._

 _I want to thank the readers that stayed by me even as I took forever to update, and love to hear from all of you._

 _If you have **any** questions regarding my blending of the Pagan practices in this chapter please feel free to message me on here or on my Tumblr, lookup PhoenixSMidnight to find me. I am always open for questions and willing to answer._

 _Thank you again!_


	10. Of Mornings and Other Finery

**** Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable events/characters therein; they are the property of the late Jim Henson and his estate, Brian Froud, and or the distribution companies whom hold legal rights to this property. The only things I can claim are my original characters, additions to the world, and new events ****

 _ **There is an A/N that I would like everyone to read at the end of this chapter, so please don't skip this one! Thank you so much!**_

* * *

Soft light drift through the open window into the room. It was morning, though the light would belie such a thing. It was still darkened, as if the light that was shining was merely a bright full moon and not a morning sun. Which, had Sarah looked out the window yet, she would realize was right.

Staring at the canopy of her bed she waited. She was alone, that much she could tell. Her dress had been removed from her and replaced with something akin to a night gown, though whatever it was made from felt as though there was nothing there at all. Clothing without clothes, the thought made Sarah smile despite herself.

A soft knock on the double doors brought the girl to a tense wakefulness, sitting bolt upright in the bed and clutching the blankets up around her neck and shoulders.

"Beggin' pardon, miss." A soft female voice said as the door opened to admit the one who had knocked. A pale hand pushed the door open just enough to let the newcomer enter. Sarah gasped at the sight before her.

Standing there in what looked like floating cloth was a beautiful woman. Her clothing seemed to sway even when she wasn't moving. The skirt of her dress was layers of greens and browns, different lengths and sizes that were connected to the bodice of the dress with a rounded waist and what looked like wrappings at the hip, though Sarah figured they were probably decorative more than useful. The bodice of the dress was of a pale green, it showed the boning of a corset. She could barely make out a design on the dress, it appeared to be wolves or another lupine creature. The top of the dress was brown, completing the look and showing off the woman's endowed bosom in a manner that was both modest and shockingly sensual at the same time.

Sarah shook her head at the thought, however. She'd never shied away from the beauty that was a woman's body- she was one after all- but she had never thought of another woman as _sensual_ before and she sure as anything wasn't going to start now. Finding her voice once she realized she had been staring for almost too long, Sarah spoke.

"Who," She squeaked, coughing a little and swallowing again. Her voice was stronger when she spoke again. "Who are you?"

"Nissa, milady." The woman spoke again. Her accent was almost cockney, if Sarah had to place it from the Overworld. Overworld? Oh, yes, she was Below. "Lord King asked me to take care of ye. He's right fit in a state today- shouldna keep him waitin'."

"Nissa," Sarah said as she stood, waving to the girl to close the door behind her. She dropped the blanket from her hands and onto the bed once she was sure they were alone. "Without sounding completely rude… what are you? You don't look like any goblin I've ever seen."

"That's 'cause I ain't no goblin, miss." Nissa curtsied slightly, bowing her head to Sarah as she did so. "I'm a fylgja, a servant in his Majesty's court."

"A fylgja?" Sarah stumbled a bit over the unusual term for what the woman was. It sounded almost Icelandic more than Gaelic or Celtic- something she had noted most of the lore seemed to come from. Or most of the surviving lore came from those cultures.

"Overworlders would call me a doppelganger, or a changeling." Nissa replied gently, her eyes crinkling with laughter that did not reach her stoic disposition. She seemed mischievous and almost as young as Sarah herself was, but the human felt sure that this fylgja was centuries older than she looked.

"A changeling? Like a child left behind when faeries take another?" Sarah was genuinely curious, forgetting how rude it might be to the faerie creature in front of her. And rudeness never went over well with the Fae.

"In centuries past, miss." Nissa looked away and towards the empty fire grate. The room was warm for the season, a sign of the King's magic- for this place had been ordered cleaned for the first time in many moon cycles. It was an odd thing for the King to ask, but the answers came in the form of the human before her.

Nissa studied Sarah just as Sarah studied Nissa. It was obvious that this was the woman from whose shadow the fylgja had been cast. The similarities in the two of them were unmistakable. Though Nissa could see the immaturity in her own features versus the woman who now stood regal in the nightclothes of a Queen. Nissa decided that she liked this Sarah, her heart was pure and innocent; the heart of a believer, the heart of faith. The light she would bring to this darkened kingdom would be plenty and bright.

"We should dress ye, miss. If y'er wanting to go see the King an' all." Nissa moved to the dressing area. There was a table with a silvered mirror, with the mixings and powders of face paint. There were brushes made of the finest Pooka hair and scents and oils aplenty for the coming days. The faerie turned away from the table and to the large wardrobe. It was a connected room, something she had never seen in any of the other suites in the castle before.

"Dress me? I promise, Nissa, I can do that myself!" Sarah was suddenly bumbling again, following the other girl with uneasy steps as she walked barefoot over the surprisingly soft feeling stone floor.

"Aye, miss. I'm sure ye could in the Overworld; where females dress as men." Nissa replied almost flippantly as she paraded through the smaller unlit room with a knowing grace. Her nimble fingers trailed over the garments in the dark, stopping when they found the one they were looking for.

Sarah found her mouth open in a gape for the second time when she saw the dress that Nissa had pulled from the wardrobe. It was the most beautiful thing that she had ever laid eyes on, and the most regal looking dress that she'd ever seen.

The skirt portion of the dress was made of two layers, connected at the waist by what looked like silver and black lace belting. The belting curved up and over the hips before coming down in a small 'v' in the front. It was intricate, a seemingly never ending line of knots weaving in and out of the others. The main skirt was of a heavy looking brocaded leaf green with the same silvery designs. About four inches from the hemline it became a deeper green with even brighter stitching.

The over skirt was of a see-through silver with green, and it wrapped around the back of the dress but did not fully come together in the front. It had the same belting down the two sides where it came down, from Sarah's point of view it looked like the upper skirting would begin at the insides of her thighs and end further out, shoulder width or so.

A corset made up the bodice, using the same material as the underskirt. The middle part of the bodice was the dark green, accenting the bosom and coming to another point at the belting on the hips. Wrapping around and creating the rest of the torso was the lighter green, the silver designs running up and down the boning of the corset top. The silver and black lacing that adorned the belting and skirt hem was also on the top of the bodice, it seemed to highlight the breast area and Sarah began to worry if she would even be fully covered in such a dress.

There were no sleeves to the dress, not actual ones anyway. A collar made of shoulder braces, from their looks, ran over the back of the dress and to the front; it looked almost like a jacket top that only sat on the shoulders and couldn't close. It came up high on the neck, and a clasp at the throat was revealed to be almost a necklace in make, the same charm Jareth wore rest in the center. Attached to the arm portion of the shoulder coverings were rounded layers of the same silken see-through cloth on the upper skirting. They looked to be what Sarah would have called Elf sleeves in her youth.

"Something amiss, milady?" Nissa's expression was suddenly worry filled, she second guessed the picking of the dress for moments before Sarah coughed out a laugh. "Milady?"

"It's beautiful, Nissa." Sarah replied, her eyes full of mirthful tears as she continued to laugh. "I was just caught by its splendor. Surely you don't mean for me to wear _that_ to go see Jareth?"

"My Lord King commanded that you dress as a proper Lady would, miss." Nissa chewed the inside of her cheek as she spoke. If the human thought _this_ dress was splendorous then wait until she saw any of the **others**. Nissa knew for certain that this was the plainest dress in the wardrobe.

"A proper Lady?" Sarah snorted, Nissa looked almost horrified. "No one has ever accused me of being such, and I hardly wish to start now. Though, I did agree to this and willingly came back to this place. I will bide my time on this, for now. He's not going to parade me around in frilly delicate dresses like some China doll."

"Not meanin' disrespect miss, but it's not a wise thing… upsetting the King." Nissa looked to the ground as she spoke. She had seen the wrath the Night King could bring forth, and she did not wish it upon the hopeful future Queen.

"Wise or not, Nissa," Sarah waited for the faerie to look up at her. "I am my own woman, and I will not become some trophy to show off. I am adventurous and like to be wild and free, I like to see things and to learn- I will not be cooped up like a bird in a cage."

 _Maybe it's a cage ye need._ Nissa found her traitorous mind thinking as she merely shook her head in silence and began to undo the ties on the dress. She would pick out shoes for her Queen once she had the rest of the outfit on her.

It was obvious to the fylgja that the human Bride Queen was not someone who was accustomed to finery, dresses, or possibly even the face powders that Nissa would have to use to make her presentable to the King. It made Nissa wonder if this Bride would be able to fit in amongst the comings and goings of court here in the Realm of the Sea. The Night King's court was one of the biggest in the Below, given its proximity to the border between the realms.

She considered herself as she helped the human out of her night things and into the shift that went under the other, finer, clothing. Nissa was classified as a lower-class Unseelie. Unseelie faeries were the most common here in the Below, but the King also not only entertained but also employed Seelie faeries. He was not very picky as to his court guests or workers; Nissa supposed it was from being around Goblins all the time. Even she was wont to avoid them if at all possible.

"I'm surprised, Nissa." Sarah commented, suddenly bringing the handmaiden out of her reverie. She made a questioning noise, not wishing to speak. "This cloth, it looks and _feels_ like a mixture of silks and velvet. It's thick like wool, but not scratchy or uncomfortable. But it also feels like I'm wearing nothing at all, there's no weight to it."

"Faerie craftsmanship, miss. Ain't nothin' more than a little bit o' glamour. Many of your dresses would be right heavy without the magic." Nissa smiled behind the Queen. She was naïve, but not unafraid to question. Her apparent acceptance of the situation would make things much easier for both her and the King.

"It is beautifully made." Sarah commented as she allowed Nissa to lead her to the mirror. She managed to retain the gasp that so desperately wanted to come out as she saw herself in the mirror. She was _beautiful_. The dress highlighted the curve of her hips, her naturally slim waist. The swell of her breasts. It made her look sensual and yet regal at the same time. She couldn't help but notice how plain her face and slept-in hair looked in comparison to the rest of her.

"No, miss, you're beautiful." Nissa whispered as Sarah looked over herself in the mirror. She noticed how the woman's eyes trailed up and down, down and up. Saw the blush as she continued to examine her body in the dress. "Now, miss, if we can I need to do your hair. The King is still waitin' and I do not want him to wait for long."

"Oh, oh… yes. Jareth." Sarah sat on the stool at the vanity. She looked at her face in the mirror and studied it closely. She still looked young but the roundness of her face had given way to a more slender profile. Her eyes would forever be curiosity filled, a sparkling light green with a darker ring. The longer she looked, however, the more she thought about things that had bothered her all through the rest of the Beltane festivities and well into her dreamless sleep here.

Why had Murtagh lied to her and Katrice? What did he have to gain from finding her? Sarah supposed that she could have just been the collateral damage of his and Katrice's relationship, but without proof she was more inclined to believe that Murtagh had purposefully sought her out.

Thinking of that little weaseling snake of a faerie… God she was so _angry_ with him! How dare he enchant her and then force her to enter the Dance- what gave him the right to be able to push her around and take over her life? _If you hadn't wanted this, then why did you dream it when he enchanted you? If you hadn't wanted this, then why didn't you tell the_ _ **truth**_ _when you were rooted? You couldn't lie, and yet you declared yourself accepting of being Jareth's Bride._

Sarah inwardly growled at herself as she thought about the rooting and the testing of her heart and worth. The looks people had given her once they saw what the crystal revealed- her journey through the Labyrinth and her words to Jareth at the end. Sarah didn't miss the change in their demeanor, the way they seemed to either respect her… or be completely horrified at the idea of her presence.

 _You went there in search of Him. Isn't that why you decided on cultural studies? Mythologies, theologies, and lore? Cultural anthropology that focused specifically on Celtic history. You looked, through the Nords and Vikings, through every Slavic history book you could find…_ _ **You**_ _looked for him._

Damn herself, she was right. Sarah had looked for Jareth. For a while after leaving the Labyrinth she had visited with Ludo, Hoggle, and Sir Didymus. Others from the Labyrinth appeared with them sometimes, always in the background and they never interacted with her. But then the visits became less frequent, she saw her friends less and less as weeks turned into years. Hoggle told her it was because the Goblin King was trying to seal up the portals through which they had been communicating.

She hadn't doubted it at the time.

But as her friends' visits lessened the dreams came. Not nightmares per se, but recurring and unsettling nonetheless. Dreams of dancing, dreams of songs, dreams of pathways ever reaching- everchanging. An owl, white as snow, off in the distance. He was always there in one form or another, always watching. Waiting. He always seemed to be waiting.

 _Night King_. Sarah's still dazed mind finally began to put pieces together. _The Night King, ruler of the Kingdom of Dreams, also known as the Labyrinth. Son of the last Night King Oberon and his captive, and sister-in-law, the High Queen Oonagh._

She remembered now, she had read about him in one of the faerie lore books in a dusty old shop about a month or so ago. The book had been so interesting that she'd _had_ to buy it, and the woman at the shop had given it to her for free. The older woman claimed that it had been 'many a year' since she'd seen someone so interested in the Fey, as Sarah was.

The book had said that King Oberon had been jealous of his brother Finvarra so he had stolen the High Queen to entice his brother into war. The plan had failed, however, when High Queen Oonagh escaped with the help of the Night King's chosen mortal Bride- who he had banished back to the Overworld for such a crime.

Her thoughts were paused, though, when she felt a cold weight on her forehead. Looking up into the mirror she squeaked in surprise, much more embarrassing than a simple gasp. Looking back at her was a Queen befitting the gown. Nissa had done wonders with the primitive powders and oils, that much was certain. Her eyes now stood out on her pale skin, made paler with the makeup.

The weight on her forehead was a crown, she realized. It was a magnificent piece, crafted from what Sarah could only describe as solid moonlight it shone so brightly and in such a silver pallor. There were five points on the crown, all topped with glittering jewels. The middle, and shortest to Sarah's surprise, was topped with a mesmerizing black jewel of which she couldn't place the name for. It was a pointed diamond shape whereas the other four jewels, dark red, were rounded on the sides though they still came to two distinct points top and bottom.

Coming down in a point on her head was an intricate design, something that Sarah couldn't make out completely however it looked much like scales all knotted together. The silvery metal was dotted with smaller red, glittering white, and black jewels. It truly was a masterpiece of a crown- and Sarah found herself longing to wear it forever.

That thought was shaken out of her mind, however, when her eyes caught sight of the most focal point to the crown- it's black horns. They looked almost like ram horns, curving up and back on her head before once again curving forward. The horns came up between the outer and inner spikes, coming back to rest on the outside of the taller jewel covered peaks.

Her hair had been braided, curled somehow, and styled around the crown. It seemed to come up through it and looked almost like chains attached to the beautiful metal piece. She felt very much like a dark faerie princess, the same kind of thing she'd dream about as a child- the same thoughts that once led here to the Labyrinth.

"I… I look…" Sarah was stammering, unable to find words to describe not only how she looked but the butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach and veins.

"Ye look like a queen, miss." Nissa said with a coy smile. "He will be pleased."

"Honestly I don't care whether I _please_ him or not." Sarah squared her jaw and shoulders as she talked. The thought of dressing such a way, beautiful or not, merely to _please_ him was a sickening thought. She had agreed to this year and a day out of a feeling of obligation, owing him for saving her twice in her life. That was _it._

She owed nothing else to Jareth. Not affection, not loyalty, not _anything_. And especially not this god forsaken feeling in the pit of her stomach. A strange heat that seemed to originate in her lower abdomen and travel both up and down her body as if it were flowing through her blood. She detested it and the thoughts that came with such a feeling.

"As ye say, miss." Nissa's plain reply came after a few moments of silence. The fylgja was thinking about the demeanor of the Bride of her King. She was headstrong, independent, and had a feisty personality that would greatly contrast- and possibly fight with- the typical features of the King. He was cunning, with great measures of wit and wisdom. He was more brooding and sullen than the girl, but Nissa hoped that the fire and light that Sarah exuded would be enough to change and warm King Jareth.

"Um," Sarah stood and looked down at her feet. She was wearing what Nissa had called hosen- a primitive three-piece pair of what felt like tight and silk pants. But her feet were otherwise bare of anything. "Am I to go without shoes?"

"Oh no, miss. I hadna gotten them for ye yet. Please, sit, it'll only take me a moment." Nissa rushed off to grab the shoes she had in mind for the gown. She grabbed them quickly and brought them to the Bride for inspection. Nissa had a hard time, still, using the girl's name even in her head. She found herself using Bride or Queen more than Sarah.

Perhaps she would come to get used to it. Handmaiden was not her usual title or job. Too many new things in one day.

Sarah inspected the shoes as Nissa handed them to her. They were as gorgeous and gauche as the dress she was wearing. They were made of what felt like a bendable metal material, something she had never seen or held before. The shoes had a heel to them, if she had to guess it was close to two inches. They were what Katrice would have called cone heel, it was wider at the top near her foot and thinner near the ground.

Sarah thanked whatever deity might exist that they weren't stiletto or overly tall. She'd never been graceful in heels, and was thankfully taller than most women without them.

Looking at the details of the shoe, Nissa had taken one to place it on her foot, she was astounded at the beautiful designs. The heel was made from an owl in flight, and the silvery material seemed near white there. A nod at the Goblin King for sure. The same knotted design that was on the belting and lace of her dress was also found on the front of the shoe- they matched exactly, which meant these shoes were _made_ for _this_ dress.

That struck Sarah as odd, but she said nothing.

Nissa took the second shoe and made quick work of the laces that went up the side of the boot, a detail Sarah had missed. She stood and brushed her hands off before looking at the Queen who sat before her.

 _Her posture could use some work. And she has no idea how to sit like a lady, she's all wood and rigid- no fluidity or grace. She's going to need lessons._ Nissa was taking stock of her new charge. The King had told the fylgja that the Bride's acclimation and comfort was her new charge of duty. _She's not fully without her graces, however. She's delicate, and rather mature seeming for being so young. These clothes do much to highlight the natural beauty that is already there. One plus, even if proper ladylike manners didn't exist._

"Miss, if you will, I should lead you to your husband now." Nissa said, instantly regretting her choice of words at the sight of the Queen's jawline tensing. She had angered her, Nissa just knew it.

"I have agreed to this deal for a year and a day, that does not mean I am his wife nor is he my husband." Sarah's voice wasn't cold or mean, though she was fuming inside. It did no good to be mean to someone who had been so kind. "I… I owed him. This is repayment of my debt, and once this is over I will return to my world Above and that will be the end of it."

"As ye say, miss. My apologies for such bold a statement." Nissa curtsied and inwardly cursed. Trying to convince this girl that the world in the Below is where she belonged was going to be harder than she originally thought- Sarah seemed to hate it here, though the fylgja could not understand why.

She had beaten the Labyrinth, one of small handful to ever do so. And the _only_ one to beat King Jareth's Labyrinth- he had taken such care and pride in it compared to Kings before him. This girl, at a younger age than she was now- and before she was even a _woman_ \- had taken the power the Night King had over her and she had used it for her freedom. Nissa couldn't think of anyone who had _ever_ done that with _any_ Night King.

Sarah stood and made for the door while Nissa was thinking, stopping only to look back at the faerie. She cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to hide her nerves but failing to do so.

"Um, Nissa? I don't know where I am supposed to meet Jareth." Sarah replied with a blush growing up her neck and cheeks. "I am unfamiliar with the castle…"

"Not a problem, miss. I can show ye." Nissa moved briskly to the door and stopped to look at Sarah before they left the room. Carefully adjusting one of the locks of her hair that had come loose from the styling, Nissa decided that the Queen was as presentable as she'd ever be. She found herself almost whispering a phrase she wished had stayed in her mind. "Are ye ready, miss?"

Sarah thought for a moment, touched by the care the fylgja was showing. She worried at her bottom lip and her brow furrowed as she thought about it. _Was she ready?_ Sighing and squaring herself for whatever was to come, she nodded.

"Yes, I am ready."

* * *

 _A/N: Greetings and welcome! I would like to thank you for reading, first of all, and invite you to review or message me with any comments, questions, or concerns you may have. I do read all of them and answer even my reviews should there be a need (questions or the like) for me to do so._

 _Now, there is a small list of things I wish to address so I'm going to jump right in:_

 _1. **King Finvarra, Queen Oonagh, and King Oberon.** Yes I know that these are all examples of mythological, literature, or folk tale Faerie royalty. I do also know that they come from **different** stories. As with the ritual in the previous chapter and with the chapters to come I want to reiterate that the background and the mythology used in this story is a melting pot of many tales._

 _2. **Fylgja.** Fylgja (pronounced fEElg-ya, to the best of my knowledge) are a type of Slavic Unseelie faerie. _

_3. **Seelie and Unseelie** **.** Seelie faeries are seen as the 'higher' faeries. Seelie means Holy or Blessed and the faeries within this category in the courts (yes, I researched this) were seen as beneficial to mortals, they would often come and warn mortals who accidentally offended them or to return human kindness with their own acts of help. They are seen as 'day' faeries, and even though they can be mischievous and playful will avenge offense or wrongdoings without fail or second thought. Unseelie faeries, however, are seen as the 'night' faeries. The word Unseelie means Unholy or Unblessed and this category of fae is made up of the typically more evil-inclined creatures. Not all are evil, but most will choose to harm over to help when given a choice. They can be malicious and don't need offense to go after an enemy or a human- many of the creatures in this category, according to myth, will do as they want without provocation._

 _4. **My overly wordy descriptions** **.** I'm sure you noticed in this chapter the care I took to describe Sarah's gown, crown, shoes, and others. This is because I am trying to create as much of a living world as possible. I promise that after the next few chapters I will focus much less on the descriptions of clothing, rooms, or general scenery (special occasions will arise, and then talk will turn to the trees or whatnot). I want you to be able to imagine in your minds eye what the clothes these characters are wearing look like, what their style is, and from here on be able to continue seeing that as you read- to help build the world for you to inhabit as I write it._

 _That's all I can think of as far as things that absolutely **need** to be addressed at the current moment. Just typical stuff for a heavier Fic. As usual I want to again thank all of you for reading and remind anyone who wishes that the comments are open and I do respond to messages as well as (now that I have one x.x) my Tumblr._

 _Thank you for reading, I will see you again soon!_


	11. Breakfast with the King

**** Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or other recognizable events/characters therein; they are the property of the late Jim Henson and his estate, Brian Froud, and or the distribution companies whom hold legal rights to this property. The only things I can claim are my original characters, additions to the world, and new events ****

Sarah wasn't sure what to make of this castle, because it was nothing like the one that had appeared so often to her in her dreams. These halls were darkened, the tapestries aligned along the wall were not ripped or destroyed. There seemed to be a larger sense of foreboding here but at the same time the entire space seemed to sigh in relief as she walked. Sarah shook her head quickly.

 _Buildings can't sigh. And walls don't know what relief is._ Her thoughts were quick to soothe, but in the back of her mind she still pondered. If this was part of the Labyrinth, something of which she was almost certain, then couldn't it also be alive in the same way? She shuddered to think about it.

Misreading the shudder of the human, Nissa piped up in an attempt to break the now uncomfortable silence between the two walking women. "Ye'll get used to the air here, Miss. Tis drafty but not wholly uncomfortable, just a Spring chill. More howl than bite."

"The air is fine, thank you." Sarah replied gently, almost smiling at the use of such an… well, such an _Overworld_ idiom. Nissa nodded in silence to the human Queen. "I am just not used to this place, and it feels… wrong."

"Likely to be, Miss. Probably coppers to a sweet roll that ye've even seen the likes of a place like this. Never been to the Overworld myself but from what me Mam taught 'twas not a place for magic folk." Nissa cursed inwardly at how lowborn she sounded, her accent coming out around the human Queen naturally. She was comfortable around the girl, and that was something likely to cause trouble in the future. Steeling herself, she continued carefully. "I'm sure you'll find yourself used to it soon enough. The Night grows on even the staunchest of Fae."

"The Night?" Sarah's voice dripped with unhidden curiosity, she was overloaded and trying to take everything in. Thus far she'd seen three goblins who'd been cleaning the floors bow into the soapy water as they passed, whispering amongst themselves. There had also been four or five other creatures that had both eyed her curiously while making a quick retreat as she came close.

"Best way to describe it, Miss." Nissa explained as they took another corner- it wasn't much further to the morning room where the King had requested to meet his Bride. "The sun holds no power here in the Below. The Overworld's moon serves as our sun and moon in one- the light changes as the wheel of time turns."

"I could have sworn there was a sun…" Sarah whispered to herself. Nissa caught the barest edge of the sentence but opted to remain silent. As the pair approached a rather ornate doorway, not unlike the rest of the ornate doors that Sarah had noticed in the halls, Nissa came to a stop and looked at the girl.

"His Highness is within; he requested breakfast and privacy for the rest of the morn into the midday." Nissa held her hand out and handed Sarah a small blackened bell. It looked like aged or burned silver. "Ring this to summon me in your need; I'm here to serve." She gave a proper courtesy before leaving Sarah at the door alone.

 _Go in. It's only Jareth- you_ _ **know**_ _Jareth. You've beaten him at his own game once, do it again._ Sarah's thoughts were racing as fast and hard as her heart beat within her chest. Her hand was outstretched to the handle of the door, but she couldn't seem to grasp it. Her hand wouldn't move, her body refusing any order she gave it. _Stop it! You can win. He has no power over you. Remember that. No. Power._

She was ultimately left without a choice or need to act, however, as the door swung inward seemingly of its own accord. Jareth sat within her sight in the room, his smile pleasant and surprisingly devoid of any traceable amounts of animosity or devious machinations.

"Good morning, Sarah." Jareth's smile seemed to get even wider. "Nice of you to join me for breakfast today. Do come in, love." He gestured her forward, and Sarah found herself complying with halted steps. She wasn't being pulled, that she knew. The steps were her own- she just found herself swimming in a mixture of fear and awe at the sight of Jareth again. "I had the cooks arrange a veritable feast for you, darling, as I wasn't sure what you would wish to eat. If memory serves me correctly, and it usually does, mortals are always famished when they travel between the Realms."

"I am hungry," Sarah worried her lower lip for a moment. The room smelled delicious as the food steamed on platters made from what looked like gold, silver, and a black metal she couldn't distinguish. She moved as gracefully as she could to the second chair at the table, her hand coming to rest on its back. "But at the same time, I remember what happened the last time I ate food here."

"Such lack of trust," Jareth tutted, the clicking of his tongue brought a shiver down Sarah's spine- she did her best to ignore it. "I can assure you with no guilt to my conscience that nothing shall befall you from the food offered." He reached forward and filled a silver goblet with a dark colored liquid, setting it before Sarah as she lowered herself into the chair. He filled a second one for himself as he continued to speak. "You are here as my Bride. You are not a Labyrinth Runner- you did not wish away a child that you must now fight to win back. Though I'm sure you could still find your way through if you truly wanted to- perhaps we can reminisce later about that…"

"I'd rather not." Sarah interrupted before Jareth could continue down that line of thinking. She looked at the cup and empty plate. She was _so_ hungry. And Murtagh had merely mentioned fruit, right? So the meats, pastries, and what looked to be eggs were safe… She hoped. Reaching to gently grab what looked like a turnover, Sarah spoke again in what she hoped was an even tone. "And I hardly think a _guest_ would have been put under enchantments and brought here under false pretenses, but I could be wrong."

"Your words ever sharp, they cut like knives against my skin." Jareth playfully mocked, his eyes alight as Sarah took a bite of the pastry she'd picked up. It had been a turnover- one filled with spices, sausage, eggs, and cheese. The look of pure contentment on her face as she chewed stirred at his heart. "I see that your wit and tongue have not dulled with age."

"Barely six years isn't much age, is it? If my memory of Fae serves correctly you're well into a few centuries." She took another bite of the turnover, it was the most delicious thing she'd eaten in a long time.

"It may not be a long time for me, no. But for you and the rest of mortal kind… six years could seem like an unending eternity, could it not?" Jareth grabbed his own food, opting to eat now that his Bride had done so. He had worried about that- Sarah was ever so resistant and rebellious. A hunger strike seemed right up her alley. Or, he supposed, it would have been when she'd been but a child. "I would ask you to speak so that I could hear your sweet voice again- but I shall wait. The amount of questions swirling in your eyes forewarns me that to open those gates would mean a lengthy and cold breakfast before you finished. For now, if you don't mind, I would ask only to be allowed to indulge in pleasantries. I find myself craving it."

"I don't remember your way of talking always being so flowery." Sarah replied offhandedly, taking a sip of what she immediately found to be pomegranate juice. She watched him for a reaction and was mildly disappointed to find none- he seemed unreadable. "Then again, I don't clearly remember much. But," she sighed slightly, having run out of air, and continued; "you did ask so nicely, and this is a beautiful breakfast. I won't spoil it with my questions, provided you don't spoil it with your own."

"Clever, Sarah. How did you know I would have my own questions?" Jareth's laugh was almost musical, nothing like the mocking tones she'd come to remember in her mind. Had her memories been wrong? Was this how he'd been before? Or was he flattering her now, hiding some malevolent endgame?

"Not hard to guess," Sarah shrugged with an offhanded look to the table again. She was having a hard time deciding what to try next. "Fae are always curious about things, according to myth and legend. Hard to be able to offer the right price to their targets without knowing them."

"And do you feel like a target, Sarah?" The Fae King eyed the girl closely, watching her every twitch. To his great surprise, she cracked a wide smile and laughed.

"I'm a human among who _knows_ what kinds of Fae… I couldn't be a bigger target if I was literally wearing one." Sarah laughed so hard that she nearly broke into a fit of childish giggles. As it subsided, she looked back at the man before her. "Whether or not that's a bad thing I haven't decided yet. But I'm sure we'll talk about that later, yes?"

"Of course, my lady." Jareth bowed his head and sipped at his own cup. "I wouldn't dream of withholding from my Queen."

Sarah bristled a little at the term, but kept her mouth shut for the moment. And so, the meal continued that way; in a comfortable silence as the two ate, drank, and relentlessly watched each other. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, neither was it a dangerous silence. Merely two forces sizing the other up in preparation. For what, though, neither seemed to know. Instead, the silence continued, unchanged and unbroken, until both had finished eating.

Sarah finished her meal with a nice piece of toast and butter. The bread tasted oddly sweet but not in a revolting way- and it was as fluffy as a cloud inside the crusty warm outer layer. She smiled in contentment from a full stomach and made doubly sure to check that nothing she'd eaten had fruits in it. The drink was a fruit juice, but Sarah hoped drinking differed from eating and wouldn't count if it _was_ the fruit of the Night King like Murtagh had talked about.

"So," She started with a soft voice. Sarah knew she didn't have much in the way of leverage or power- what little she'd taken before had been returned when she'd surrendered it to him. It broke Murtagh's spell but it also caused her to be helpless in a way she'd hoped to never be again.

"I am sure you have questions, Sarah, and I will happily provide what answers I can." Jareth's eyes were as bland as his face. He gave nothing away.

"What answers you can? Don't I deserve more than half truths or no answers at all." Sarah's eyebrows had shot up in an almost comical look of incredulity. She didn't want to think that Jareth would intentionally lie to her, but the thought still presented itself either way. "I would think that after being enchanted by someone claiming to be human all while dating and otherwise leading on a friend of mine and then having to _dance_ for you- only to give up what power I had-"

"Relax, Sarah." Jareth held up a hand and spoke in an even but commanding tone. "You will not get half-truths from me- and I will answer all of your questions. I was merely suggesting that you may not understand the answers yet. Time, little dove. Time is something which you will have a lot of here."

"Couldn't you reorder time? Couldn't this all be over already, and both of us back to our respective paths in life?" Sarah wasn't being cruel with her words, but they stung Jareth like the blade of a knife either way.

"I cannot." And with that, Jareth broke his word nearly immediately. He could reorder time had it been something he wanted to do. The trouble for Sarah was, he just didn't want to do it. "But, I will give you as much time as you need this morning so, please, ask your questions. I will ask mine when you have sated your curiosity."

 _A/N:_

 _Hello my darling readers. I know that I have been away for quite some time and I am sure that many of you have wondered whether or not this story, and my others, were going to be finished. Well- I can assure you that yes they are. I lost quite a bit of my work and research in a recent move to another state so I am having to recompile a **lot** of stuff to be able to continue this work in particular. I am sorry for such a soft chapter but the next one will have a lot of exposition and I didn't want to overload my fist chapter back in a while. Thank you all for being patient and I hope you enjoy!_


	12. Questions of the Bride

**** Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, Sarah, Jareth, or any recognizable places, characters, or prior events to the story. The story is of my own making and I am merely making it within and playing through the world of Jim Henson's creation. Thank you. ****

* * *

Sarah sat and looked upon Jareth for what felt like eternity, the silence stretching on into something almost amiable. She wanted to know so much and wanted to know all of it _now_. As before, as ever, she was rushed to know and to understand; her hunger for knowledge and for some sense of maturation of learning once again taking forefront of the conversation.

"What is Nissa, Jareth? I've come across the term fylgja in books, but they are rather vague on their descriptions of certain types of Fae and mythological creatures." Sarah matched Jareth look for look as she spoke. She knew what it could cost, point blank accusing a Fae of nonexistence while sitting in its own realm- but her determination to regain some form of power won over her logical arguments of self-preservation.

Not that she _had_ to regain power. Jareth, the King of the Night, Protector of Dreams, Lord of the Labyrinth… He would give every title and all that he controlled under moon and sun for the woman before him. She was delicate, fragile in her humanity. But there was light there, a fire smoldering below the surface that he longed so desperately to burn himself with.

"What did she say she was?" Jareth kept his tone light, though his irritation at being called mythological bubbled. Mortals had been dense to the magic around them for centuries, but he believed a woman such as Sarah would have been more attuned to it by now. He caught a glint in her eye that startled him. _She did know_. She was testing him, oh how precious that thought was! Well, perhaps two could play at that game.

"She said she was a changeling. And I have to admit, she looks and awful lot like somebody I used to be." The reply was short, to the point. Jareth couldn't help but wonder if there was more Sarah suspected but wasn't saying.

However, being a Fae of his words- Jareth resolved to not lie to his Queen. Openness and communication would be his key allies in the war to win the heart she guarded from him so deeply, hidden away within the dense forested tangle of her mind.

"In a way, I suppose you could call her a changeling. She is a shadow, cast upon the death of a being- forever holding that being in the state of their life at death. Fylgja are protectors, commonly attached to the fate of mortals and usually seen as animals. In older traditions in the Land, or Mortal realm, they were the creature that ate the afterbirth of a born mortal- and would follow that mortal to their inevitable fate. It took mortals with exceptional power and prowess to see them, and even then they could only see their own." Jareth watched Sarah, calculating her reaction to his words as one would calculate a shot in a hunt. His prey, her heart, was closed to him. But her mind was not, and she was ever starving for more knowledge- this much was obvious. "She is your fylgja, though she was not born into the world upon your birth. She was born into this world upon your death… Your first death."

"First death? But… But I'm alive, how can it be that I have died already?" Shock wrote itself through her features, worried lines coming to her brows as they furrowed in what could have been frustration. She tried to smooth them out, but the Fae had seen- and he would remember. "I am human, or a mortal as you keep reminding me. I can only die once."

"I told you that you may not understand all that I have to tell you, dear one. My words were, are, true. You will find understanding in time, and she is your shadow." Jareth paused for a moment before continuing, giving Sarah no real time to rebuttal his words. "She was cast upon your death in the Labyrinth, she is what was left behind when you beat me- and what had to remain when you returned to the Mortal realm."

"Will it happen again? Me… dying… when I leave here, will it happen again?" Jareth inwardly flinched at her obvious anticipation at leaving his presence so quickly. He would have to work hard, ever so diligently, over the next year to change her heart.

"If you leave, yes. A piece of all mortals remains when they travel into my Realm. The Sea, the Night Realm, The Land of Dreams- whatever you wish to call it… There is a toll one must pay to come and go, pieces of yourself that will never leave. Though those pieces of you… are not fully disconnected from most mortals. It's a form of madness, memories and dreams that will come to haunt you for the rest of your lives until you pass through the Barrier one final time."

"The Barrier?"

"The Realms are all connected. The Sky, the Land, the Sea- or as you mortals typically call them Heaven, Earth, and Hell. There have been many terms for the realms. Earth, Olympus, Tartarus, The Underworld… You mortals can be rather inventive and at the same time dreadfully boring when it comes to naming things. However, just the same- they are all connected. The Sky is where many Fae take residence, and, in your research, you should know that is where the Seelie court resides. The more… charitable… Fae live there." He paused, watching the face of his student. When Sarah showed interest, and almost irritation at the stop of his words, he continued. "The Land, the physical and tangible realm to you mortals… That is where our magic has been weakened through the centuries. Our powers there coincide almost directly with the strength of those who still believe. From the smallest of children and their wildest dreams to the oldest of women in their twilight years with whispers of days gone by in their heads… You are part of this, born into it and molded by it. Your heart is open to the magic, however, and was before you even set foot into my Labyrinth. It had to have been or you would have been denied the chance to Run it."

"Denied?" Sarah's heart broke for a moment. Images of children snatched from cradles, like her brother had been, and forgotten… Babes who had done nothing more than be babes… Which was true, if she thought about it. Toby had been nothing more than a baby, a defenseless child… And she had wished him away for that very fact. Her winning him back had not redeemed what she had done- at least not in her mind.

"There are those who have wished children to my lands and been found incapable of crossing the barrier… Magic is hard on a mortal. Your bodies are corporeal, you require more of an… erm… physical ballast to keep you connected to the Realm in which you reside." Sarah nodded, though she stored the information away for further ponderings. "The Sea is my Realm. I have the largest Kingdom within it, followed closely by my brother whom you've met. While he is the King of the Sea he is second only to me- the King of Night, the Protector of Dreams- the Lord of the Labyrinth."

Jareth chuckled. When they'd been children, their roles had always chafed at Murtagh… Jealousy and envy had painted their younger years with competition and fierce sibling rivalry. That is, however, until Murtagh saw the true burden his brother was set to bear upon his ascendance to the throne of the Realm of Night. Tagh, as Jareth had affectionately called him before, had never been one for politics and rules. He was a free spirit, much freer even than that of the nymphs of old or the goblins of now… But they had their bonds just the same, the two brothers.

"Ahem." Sarah cleared her throat, looking at the Fae King with calculation behind her stare. What she saw Jareth didn't know, but he made sure to reset the mask in place before continuing on with the history lesson.

"The Sea is where all souls, Fae and mortal alike, come to reside at the end of their lives." Guessing the look on Sarah's face, Jareth smiled. "We age slowly, and are nearly impossible to kill, but Fae do die Sarah. The royal lineage lasts longer than all other Fae, and can live until eternity ends should they choose- but I have yet to know of any of my brethren to choose such a life. We find our fulfillment, games, and enjoyment out of our times in the Realms but eventually all of us… find a peace. Something that calls us back to the very essence that created us."

"And that essence is here?" Sarah was interested now, leaning gently onto the table with her forearms. She had already scooted to the edge of her seat and was wrapped into Jareth's words like a fly in a web.

"The very energy that creates the universe and the Realms flows through here, if that's what you mean. Back and forth across the barrier between Sky and Sea it swirls in a tumultuous motion. The spring of life is here, though not in my Kingdom. It lies at the bottom of the Sea, flowing forth from there. Murtagh is ruler there. His is the Kingdom of water, his city beneath its waves. He and I are the two Kings in the Sea with direct access to all Realms, unlike those of the inner kingdoms. To simplify, however, as I am becoming verbose- yes, the essence of life is here. And all souls will pass through the Barrier and my Kingdom to return to it. The only ones that don't are the souls lost to the seas of the Mortal Realm- they descend naturally, though typically fighting, into the Sea without crossing my borders."

"That is… a lot to take in. But how does it have anything to do with what you called my 'first death?'"

"It does only because of this- you have already left a piece of you in my Realm Sarah. A part of you has resided within the Labyrinth since you won it, and I brought it here. Nissa is what became of that piece of you, and she is probably the reason for many of those dreams you try desperately to hide."

"Don't pretend to know anything about my dreams, Goblin King." Sarah narrowed her eyes at the Fae King, her ire rising within her from his words.

"You forget, dear Sarah, that I am the King of Dreams. The sweet songs in your heads as you sleep come from my Realm and sometimes my very Kingdom, though I will admit others come from the kingdoms beyond my own. I have seen the dreams of mortals who have been here, and I know how my Labyrinth haunts those who leave its walls." He studied her face, looking at the woman through his dual colored eyes with relish. "I do not send those dreams, if that's what has you so plucky. The Labyrinth has a life force all its own. I may be its King but I am not its Master- it will do what it wills when it thinks my back is turned and sometimes when I'm looking."

The Labyrinth was _alive_? Sarah pondered this in silence as she drank more of the juice, the cup seeming garish and gauche in her hand. She was clumsy compared to the world around her with its unnatural graces and beauty. Alien to this world, foreign to the very air in it. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about things and the predicament she had placed herself in all for the sake of ridding herself of the dreams, the thoughts, the… desires.

A warmth on her back startled Sarah out of her thoughts, causing her to jump and nearly spill the dark liquid all over her front.

"What?" Sarah felt at her shoulders, looking at Jareth who was now returning to his seat without the jacket he'd been wearing. His arms were taut in the shirt, as was his chest, and she could see his pale skin peeking from beneath the cloth. It distracted her for a moment more, staring at him and fingering the warm coat on her shoulders. His smile, cocky and self-assured, brought her inner self growling back to the surface- but she couldn't find it within her to complain about the warmth the jacket provided.

"You'll get used to the chill here, Sarah. All who come to the Night Realm must, as it is colder here than you're used to. Though not harsh, if you ask me." He smiled softer now, his features easing into a smooth countenance as he watched his Bride accept and curl into his jacket delicately.

"Nissa told me… And I do thank you for breakfast, and for explaining Nissa… I don't thank you for confusing me and claiming I've died but… You did say I wouldn't understand all of this at first, and you certainly kept your word on that. However," Sarah took in a breath as she steeled herself to say the words she'd been dancing around before. "I still have questions regarding this year and a day arrangement."

"Ask away, Sarah. I have already told you that while I cannot reorder time to shorten it that I would give you as much as you needed this morning for questions and answers." He chuckled, the sound as smooth as cream and as warm as honey to Sarah's ears. "I will admit I'm selfish in that regard, as it lengthens our time together, giving you these moments."

"Lengthens?" A flash of recognition, and then indignation. "You said you couldn't reorder time, and yet here you are making it longer! How do I know that you won't make this year and a day and eternity long?!"

"Because that is against the rules, against the most ancient of magics that even I cannot get around." The truth was easy to say here, as it did not incriminate him in the slightest, though he did immediately follow it up with a little bit of a lie. "I cannot speed time up for you, and I cannot stop it completely. I can, and am, slowing it for now. But that is only temporary and doesn't work the way you think it does, dear. My slowing time here does not stop it from continuing elsewhere, the clock is still ticking away for you in the Mortal Realm- the first day of 366 has begun. Time continued when you ran the Labyrinth, or did you not notice?"

"Yes, I did. But thirteen hours here had only been a few there. It was seven when I reached home, and maybe a half an hour had passed before you took… before I wished Toby away… So essentially thirteen hours here had only been three hours or so there, am I correct?"

"You are, time moves slower here naturally. And if you remember, I reordered time to speed it up for you. If you're looking to calculate how long you will be here I can tell you in Mortal hours if you like." Sarah nodded vigorously. "35, 136 hours will naturally occur here before your year and a day are up in the Mortal Realm. Simply put, you will be here 1,464 days or just over four mortal years."

Sarah stood abruptly, the table knocked away from her in the motion. She wasn't sure what the feeling was the gripped her chest so tightly, but it suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. _Four years?_ She was going to age, live, and remember _four whole years_ of a life that wouldn't exist when she returned home? How could that be? And what would happen to her physically because of this?

"Sarah, love, darling… My queen, please. Hush now," Jareth had closed the gap between them quickly, resting her head on his shoulder and stroking her silk-soft raven hair with his hand. He waited patiently for her breathing to slow, her body to relax, as he whispered sweet nothings and cooed her back from the edge of panic. Once she had calmed, though she had begun to cry, he backed away and gently turned her face upwards to look into his eyes. "Your fears are unfounded, my dear. While it will be four years here… I promise to you, swearing on my nearly immortal life, that you will not age four years. In fact, the magic of this place will nearly cease your aging completely while you reside in my Realm."

"Cease to age?" Sarah sniffled a little, Jareth produced a kerchief and gently wiped her eyes before giving it to the woman to daub at her nose. Even in tears she was still the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon.

"It's a side-effect of the magic of this place. Your body will age only appropriate to your home Realm, which is the mortal world. You'll still have your monthlies, that you cannot get out of as a woman, but you won't age four years and return unknowable to your friends and family." Jareth felt the tensing of her shoulders and continued quickly in hopes to stop another potential torrent of tears and panic. "Don't worry about the year passing. Your life will remain relatively uninterrupted. There are… Well, the mortals who still believe and still offer their worship to us as gods- they have their own ways of dealing with things. It's highly likely your family believes you chose to study abroad, as does your educational institution. I've never known my followers to leave loose ends for those who have been… guests… to any of my fellow Kings in this Realm."

"You hesitated. What do you mean guests?"

"I mean, dear Sarah, that you should be glad that you are here by choice and contract. There are many of your kind, beautiful mortal women, who never return to their homes and were not given the choice to leave." Sarah blanched at this, stepping slightly back from Jareth in alarm. "However, I am not one of them- and you will be released upon completion of this contract one way or the other."

"One way or the other?" Sarah was back to confused now, though still slightly panicked beneath the surface. Jareth guided her back into her seat gently, pressing a silver goblet of water into her hand instead of the sugary juice.

"Yes. There are two ways in which this year and a day is supposed to end naturally." Jareth was slower to speak now, almost hesitant. "There is the natural progression of time, both of us living out our lives here as King and Queen on the daily basis until the time is up. Decisions made, court held, appointments and social engagements- the works of which I am sure you have never experienced. All the while, I shall court you as if we are not already betrothed."

"What do you mean betrothed?" Oh- that delicious ire, the fire rising to the surface again. Jareth smiled inwardly, glad that her momentary panic from earlier had not dulled her spark in the slightest.

"That is what the contract is. You are my Bride of choice, Bride to be. Queen, for now or until the end of time itself. The ruler of my Kingdom must take a mortal bride as his own, that is part of the very magic of this place, my lands. The Dance is merely how I choose from willing maidens for the role, as I would hate to steal you away from your beds at night." He was teasing, his smile wicked as she looked at him. Somehow, Sarah found herself smiling too- nearly laughing at the tease. "You are my betrothed for now until the union is sealed or until the year and a day is up."

"Sealed?" Sarah was almost too afraid to ask what that meant, but she had to know.

"You're not going to like the answer to this question, you know." Jareth's tone was foreboding in nature and his eyes seemingly sad. "But your maidenhood and the deflowering of it seals the handfasting. And while I believe, like I'm sure you do, that a woman's body is her own to control and give to whomever she pleases you must remember that the magic surrounding this is as ancient as the universe itself. Virginal offerings even amongst the Fae are powerful, though we usually prefer to use a mortal for the fact that they carry the forgotten magics within themselves."

"So…" Sarah thought for a moment, almost letting her anger boil past the surface. She paused, collecting herself. "Essentially if you and I… if we… um… copulate… then the contract is sealed. And I'm assuming that means the handfasting becomes marriage, and permanent… am I right?"

"Yes, Sarah. You would be bound here for eternity, shedding your mortal life, body, and energies. You would remain you- don't fear for that… but you would become, in a manner, like me. Not a Fae by birth but by the literal force of magic that would tear through you in that moment." He laughed at the expression on her face, pure terror for a moment. "It's not painful, dear Sarah. A rebirth, but not painful in the slightest. You won't even recognize that it has happened until it is done… should it come to pass."

"Oh… okay…" Sarah's head was buzzing, a lightheaded feeling overcoming her as she sat and tried to puzzle out all the pieces of information she'd been given over the course of the morning. It was giving her pain, she winced as she put her fingers to her forehead.

"In pain, love?" Jareth inquired in a smooth voice, softer than his normal tones. "I can help you, if you trust me enough to touch you."

Sarah froze for a moment, studying the man in front of her. He was a threat in every way, if she really thought about it. All he had to do was force her, drug her… and yet, the look in his eyes told her that he did not want to do any of those things. For all he was unfair and a trickster within his Labyrinth it seemed that the Goblin King was more a gentleman than she'd been willing to admit.

"If you can, please." Sarah motioned for him to come closer, an offer he eagerly accepted.

"There, now," He started as he placed his cool fingers to Sarah's temple and began to gently caress her head. "this will take but a moment and then we can continue our discussion as I believe it is now my turn is it not?"

 _Shit_. Sarah had offered to answer his questions in exchange for her own. Damn and double damn, he hadn't forgotten!

"Yes, I believe it is." She mumbled, relishing for a moment the soft touches on her head as Jareth continued a practiced and precise motion across her scalp and through her hair. It was beginning to work, though, as the pain eased within passing seconds. "What questions do you have?"

* * *

 _A/N: Happy Holidays to all of my readers, old and new, this season. I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the length at which this chapter was delayed an I give no excuses for it. I, admittedly, lost some of the research and had to redo the chapter as well as hit my own personal issues recently. However, thanks to some help I am back at it and writing has come as easily as breathing within the last few weeks. I have also been working on my other works so don't expect this one to get an influx of twenty chapters- but there are a few that I am proofreading and editing to be posted over the next few days._

 _Thank you all for your patience and kind words during my absence and I do hope that you enjoy the chapters to come as I continue this story._

 _With love,_

 _Phoenix._


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